The New Professors
by HallowedRider
Summary: After a run-in with a multidimensional being, a guide, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Crowley are transported into the wizarding world. Once there, they are immediately informed of their new teaching assignments at Hogwarts. Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, and Crowley left to the hospital wing. Can they adapt to their new world? Spoilers(duh).
1. Chapter 1

"I think I got something." Dean said, staring intently at the screen of the laptop he had before him on the desk. Littered on the table were empty beer bottles and several wrappers from fast-food burgers. Though it was dirty, it suited the motel they were currently staying at which left much to be desired in the department of cleanliness. He glanced over to Sam, several books open on the bed surrounding him, and nodded to the computer. "Check this out."

Sam carefully got up from the bed, moving the books gently out of the way so as not to damage them. He crossed the room and pulled a seat around next to Dean as he began to read. "A Guide?" He read, frowning slightly. "I've never heard of them. Are you sure?"

"I mean, it fits." Dean said, scrolling down and beginning to read. "They are multidimensional beings that, apparently, exist on a higher plane than us. Basically it seems like these things are one step below Chuck. All the witnesses say that they saw someone step out of the air and start talking to the victim. Few minutes later and the vic gets Houdini'd out of there by the thing that appeared."

"Does the lore say how to kill them?" Sam inquired, frowning. "Something that powerful won't be easy to bring down."

"Well apparently you _can't_ kill them." Dean said, scrolling down further and pointing at a symbol on the screen. "But you _can_ banish them back to their plane, or whatever. Apparently if you stab them with an olive branch with this carved into it, instant one way trip back home for them."

"I think we have a few olive branches in the trunk." Sam said, frowning deeper as he studied the symbol. It was a triangle with a circle within it, and a vertical line intersecting the two shapes. "You know, I swear I have seen that symbol before somewhere."

"Maybe at the bunker?" Dean offered, shrugging his shoulders. "If this thing is as powerful as the lore says it is, I bet the Men of Letters would have something on them."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said hesitantly, his face conveying his hesitance to agree. He shrugged away the disbelief and blew out a breath. "But I think we might need to call in backup for this one."

"Who were you thinking? Cas?" Dean asked, copying the symbol down onto a piece of paper.

"Yeah." Sam said slowly. He took a breath and then quickly added, "And Crowley."

Dean slowly looked to his brother and closed the laptop. "Seriously?" He asked, his eyebrows raised. "Why?"

"I don't like it either, Dean. But if this thing is really one step below God, we are going to need all the help we can get." Sam argued. "We can't just go into this thinking it will be like any other monster. Last time I checked werewolves and wendigos were on _this_ plane of existence."

"Fine." Dean said with a grumpy sigh. "Call him and ask him if he can give Cas a lift here. The sooner we get them here the better."

Nodding his agreement, Sam grabbed his cell phone and headed out the door to grab the olive branches out of the trunk. Dean reached for one of the bottles strewn over the table and shook his head. Putting the opening to his lips he frowned when he realized that the bottle was already empty. "That figures." He grumbled.

"You know, a few of my demons and I have a running bet." An arrogant, accented voice came from behind him. "Which will kill you first, liver failure or a monster? My bet is on the former."

"Crowley." Dean said, rising from his seat and tossing the bottle into the trash bin in the corner of the room. "Long time no see. How's the hunt for Lucifer going?"

"Squirrel." Crowley answered mockingly. "It's going well, or as well can be expected. At least, it was until Moose called begging the harp-player and I for help."

"As I said before, I do not have a harp." Castiel said, striding into the room followed closely by Sam. "That is nothing more than a human construct to better relate themselves to the divine."

"Yes, well, humans always try to be more than they are." Crowley said fondly, sliding his hands into his pockets. "It's what makes getting their souls so easy, bless their greedy little hearts. But that's enough chitchat, I assume this isn't a social call Samantha?"

"We need your help." Sam said gruffly, tossing the stakes onto the table. "We're hunting this thing called a Guide, and it's-."

"A multi-dimensional being." Castiel finished gravely, a serious expression on his face. "You two were right to call, if you are truly facing a Guide you should not continue this Hunt."

"Look, we already figured out how to get rid of it." Dean said, patting the air soothingly. "Carve this number into an olive branch and stab the Guide, that's a wrap."

"Where did you find this knowledge?" Castiel asked skeptically, gazing with distrust at the computer. "From the internet? I would not believe everything I saw there."

"Yes, Cas, from the internet." Dean said with a sigh. The angel's distrust of the internet had only grown in the recent months since he had been caught in a credit card scam. "Sam's even seen the symbol before at the bunker, it will work."

"Is this true, Sam?" Cas asked, glancing at the bigger Winchester. "Have you seen that symbol before?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam said, hesitation once again entering his voice.

"That sounds confident." Crowley remarked, drawing a flash from his pocket and taking a draught. He sighed contentedly and began to slip it into his pocket before glancing to Dean. "Care for a taste?"

"I'll pass." Dean said with a cold smile. "Let's just get this over with."

"Really, boys, I'm hurt." Crowley said. "We _are_ on the same side these days, you could at least show me a little kindness. I come around when you need help, don't I?"

"And you always ask for a favor in return." Sam reminded him pointedly.

"To my knowledge, that is what friendship is." Crowley said loftily. "Give and take."

"I do not like to agree with him, but he does make a fair point." Castiel said fairly. "Human friendships are very odd things, you say to expect nothing but you always do."

"Yeah, alright, let's head out." Dean said as he finished carving the symbol into the last of the stakes. "This Guide thing has been taking all of its victims in the exact same place, at the exact same time every day. We have about half an hour before its show time."

"And where is this spot?" Crowley asked, taking a stake from the table and slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket. "If you don't mind, I would rather limit my time in that metal antique you call."

"Hey!" Dean barked, leveling the stake at Crowley. "Mock us all you want, but you leave my baby out of this."

"Your devotion to that car makes me question a lot of things about you." Crowley informed him with a roll of his eyes. He then paused and added, "But then again so does your… relationship with our feathered friend."

"Let's just go. It's the alley beside the local bar." Sam said, not at all willing to let those two get into any sort of argument. He stepped out the door and Castiel followed after him, Dean glaring briefly at Crowley before closing the door behind them.

True to his word, Crowley met them at the bar. He was speaking to a rather drunk fellow who was teetering precariously even as he stood stationary. The demon nodded at the Winchesters and continued to talk as they walked up to them. "Hello, boys. How was the drive? I'd like you to meet my new friend Tom." Crowley looked slyly at the drunken man and then back to the Winchesters. "He has big ambitions, wants to never have to be sober again."

"Alright, look, I'm going to stop you right there." Dean said, turning the drunken man around and pushing him away despite his weak, slurred protests. "Crowley, we had an agreement. You don't do your demon stuff around us and we don't gank you."

"Boys, boys." The demon said chidingly. "I was just having a conversation. Can't a demon have a normal conversation without an ulterior motive?"

"No." Sam said curtly, checking the time on his phone. "Alright, let's go. The Guide should be showing up any minute."

The four left the front of the bar and made their way down the alley, stepping past the police tape that restricted access to the scene. "So according to witnesses, this thing literally appears out of thin air." Sam informed Cas and Crowley. "Keep an eye out."

"I sense something." Castiel informed them warily, his angel blade sliding out from his sleeve and into his hand. He turned in a slow circle, his eyes moving up and down the alley's walls. "Something powerful."

"Oh, well, isn't that sweet of you?" A female voice asked, seemingly emanating from the alley's stone wall.

The four whirled on the spot to face the source of the voice, olive stakes at the ready. The voice laughed, this time seemingly coming from all around them. "I see you found my little article about how to banish me back to my world." The air at the alley's entrance rippled once and, just as witnesses had said, a figure seemed to step out of the air itself. She was a dark-haired, ghostly pale, woman with silver markings running up and down her neck, face, and arms. She wore loose green T-shirt and plain blue jeans, normal save for her eyes which glowed a luminescent blue. "I am glad. I had hoped I wasn't being _too_ helpful and all. But if you couldn't find a way to actually get rid of me you might not show up, and I am not patient."

She had just finished talking when Crowley appeared behind her, his olive stake now protruding from her chest. "Sorry, love, but I don't have time to play with you." The demon said, stepping back and placing his hands into his pockets.

The Guide, almost in a bored way, gazed down at the stake in her chest and rolled her eyes. The branch disappeared and the wound closed immediately. Crowley's eyes widened slightly and he pursed his lips. "This was unexpected." He said, somewhat obviously.

"Perhaps that was my fault." The Guide said contemplatively. "I do have a tendency to ramble on."

"Oh, crap." Sam whispered. "What the hell do we do now?"

"Oh, don't worry." She said brightly, crossing her arms. "I'm not going to kill you or anything like that. Murder is _so_ boring and mundane."

"Yes, well, this has been very entertaining but I am afraid I have prior business elsewhere." Crowley said, raising his hand in the air and snapping his fingers. For a brief moment he vanished, but then reappeared in the exact same place. "What the bloody hell is this?" He demanded, glancing around in confusion.

"Just going to disable your powers for now, I think." The Guide said, snapping her fingers. Crowley and Castiel staggered as though hit by an invisible fist, clutching their chests simultaneously in confusion. "There, much better. Now, I believe that I took a memory from you Sam. I apologize, you can have it back now."

Now it was Sam who staggered, blinking several times. "That symbol." He said, his eyes wild. "Now I remember: I didn't see it at the bunker, I read it. It's the symbol of the Deathly Hallows in Harry Potter!"

"That's right!" The Guide said, clapping her hands delightedly. "Terribly sorry about the intrusion of your privacy, but I couldn't have you ruining my fun."

"You know, for a monster, you are awful chatty." Dean said brazenly, determined to face down this creature with his bravado safely intact. "If you are going to try to take us out, get on with it."

"I already told you, that is not my intention." She said, frowning slightly. She then brightened and explained, "No, I had something much more fun in mind! I have been watching you Winchesters for some time now and I recently decided that it would be fun to have you be my next project."

"Your next project?" Sam asked, glancing worriedly to Cas who was running his hands over his body in confusion. Crowley, on the other side of the alley, was repeatedly snapping his fingers with no evident result. "You mean victims?"

"Oh, not at all!" She laughed and shook her head. "I don't really have victims. Everyone I play with is still very much alive, they just aren't here right now. They are living in their fantasy worlds, so to speak. Kinda."

"You sent them to another dimension?" Castiel asked uncertainly, apparently following the Guide's train of thought. "How?"

"Oh, it is actually very easy for me." She said brightly. "Here, I'll show you."

Her eyes blazed blue and, quite suddenly, Castiel was gone. Sam and Dean looked to one another in confusion and shock, gripping their olive stakes eve tighter. "What the hell did you do to him, you bitch?" Dean demanded roughly, tensing himself for a run at her.

"Oh, hush." She scolded, waving her hand and causing the olive stakes to disappear. "He's fine, just in a different dimension. Don't worry, I'll send you there in a bit. I just want to explain first, it makes everything so much more simple later, trust me."

"The hell you will." Dean said, scanning the alley for any potential escape routes.

"You can try to run, but every time you leave the alley you will appear right back where you are at." She advised, glancing to all three remaining figures. "All of you. And would you stop that snapping? It is very annoying and it won't change the fact that your powers are suspended."

"Where did you send him?" Sam demanded. "Bring him back!"

"Hogsmeade, to answer your first question." The Guide told him. "And, no, to answer your second."

"Hogsmeade?" Dean asked. "Where the hell is that?"

"It doesn't exist!" Sam told him. "It's a village in Harry Potter."

"Actually, that is where you are wrong." The Guide said, suddenly passionate. "Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, all of that. It exists. Just… not in your universe. Let me explain, briefly. You have heard the term 'books are a portal to another world'? Well, it is actually truer than you realize. You see, your books of fiction are very rarely actually original works. Authors don't realize it but they are actually writing down events that took place in another universe. It is one of those little undiscovered powers your universe's humans have. Basically what I do is... relocate people. I do so love watching it when people have to adapt to entirely new environments. You should see the fellow I sent to Jurassic Park, his expression of realization is one of my favorite memories."

"So you are a monster?" Sam challenged, raising his chin. "You send people to other universes and watch them die!"

"Oh no, not at all!" The Guide shook her head vigorously. "They never _permanently_ die. You see, I make them live out their lives in the universes I send them to. If they somehow die, I just make the day restart. The fellow in Jurassic Park died several times but he is still fine. You met him earlier actually, that drunken man."

"What? How?" Crowley said, speaking up. "If he was in another universe we wouldn't be able to see him."

"Brilliant deduction." The Guide said dryly. "As I said, I make them live out their lives in the world I send them to. But, once they die, they come back to the exact moment I sent them away in their original universe. Lovely of me, isn't it? They get to live a fantasy and still live their lives."

"Look, I'm sure you think you are doing a good thing. But I am going to pass." Dean said firmly, opting for diplomacy rather than violence. It was painstakingly obvious that killing this Guide, or banishing it for that matter, had been nothing more than a lure to get them to show up. "I'm sure it would be awesome to go live in Baywatch or Dukes of Hazard but-."

"Oh, you aren't going there." The Guide said, her eyes blazing blue once more. "Have fun in the wizarding world, you three. Don't worry you won't be completely on your own. I took the liberty of arranging you some jobs I think are good for you… and entertaining for me. Along with some necessities, of course."

Sam, Dean, and Crowley suddenly felt a sensation like being hooked behind the navel and quite suddenly vanished in a flash of blue. Once they were gone, the Guide stood alone in the alley. She stared up at the sky and smiled. "Good luck, Professors."


	2. The Wand Maker

To Sam and Dean they did not simply disappear. After the jerking sensation behind their navel their vision became a disjointed mass of swirling colors. The confusion lasted for a few seconds before stopping all at once, followed by a loud cracking sound. The second they landed Dean collapsed to his knees and retched all over the cobbled brick pathway. Sam fared better, but only slightly. He leaned heavily against one of the stone walls that were on either side of them, not unlike the alley they had been in mere moments before. Blinking his eyes rapidly and putting a hand to his head Sam looked up and saw a group of people in black robes walk past, one holding a lizard before them and speaking animatedly to the others. "Dude." Sam breathed, glancing back to the hunched over form of Dean. "You good?"

Dean groaned and nodded once weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Shaking his head to dislodge the last of the cobwebs, Dean got shakily to his feet and leaned against the wall opposite of Sam. "Yeah, fine." He said. "What just happened?"

"I figured that you would be asking that right about now." The Guide's familiar voice said from behind them, amusement evident. "Even after that lovely little explanation I just gave you."

Sam and Dean turned around slowly, still using the walls as support and glared simultaneously at her. She had changed her attire, now matching the black robes that the people who had walked by had been wearing. Her voice, though still unmistakably hers, was different now as well as it now bore a slight accent. "What did you do to us, where are we?" Dean demanded.

"Sam knows." The Guide answered, smiling in a knowing fashion. "Isn't that right, Sammy?"

"It's not possible." Sam argued, "Harry Potter was a _book_!"

"The realms of what is possible are very much a mortal construct." The Guide explained. "But, enough time for a debate like that later. For now, I think that it might be best for you to look the part."

The guide clapped her hands together and Sam and Dean felt a warm current of air run past them. Sam glanced down and his jaw fell open as he beheld the change. His clothes had changed, now matching that which the guide wore. "Sammy?" Dean asked in horror, drawing his brother's attention.

Sam looked over to his brother and saw that he too was now wearing a robe, but the Guide had taken it a stage further with Dean. He now sported a pointy black witch's hat. "Nice hat." Sam said, the words falling out of his mouth despite the severity of the situation.

Dean ripped off the hat and threw it against the ground immediately, "What's with the bath robes?" He demanded of the guide.

"Well, they aren't bath robes first of all." She corrected, "And you are in Diagon Alley, of course you need robes. You are foreigners to begin with, can't have you sticking out too much. That would be a terrible start to your new lives."

"Look, we don't _want_ new lives!" Sam snapped, "Why are you doing this anyways? Aren't you supposed to be some sort of all powerful, multi-dimensional being? Why bother to mess with us?"

"Boredom mostly." She admitted. "But also because you two could really use a break. Break the world and then have to fix it, rinse and repeat every few years or so. It must get tedious, or I think it would, so I took a hand in matters. You are welcome."

"We didn't ask for this!" Dean snarled, "Mark my words-."

"You will find a way out of this." The Guide finished, looking bored. "No, you won't. I already made sure of that. You see, this world has magic just like yours. Sam knows that. But the type of magic is completely different. I am going to do you both a favor before you relive this day one hundred times and give you some advice: Live your lives. Enjoy this world while you are here. Even if you manage to get away, and you literally can't, I just have to snap my fingers and you are right back here."

"So, what? Just abandon our world so you can have your fun?" Sam demanded.

"I already told you." The Guide rolled her eyes. "You are losing no time in your world. The second you finish here, it is right back to where I grabbed you."

"How are we supposed to live here?" Dean demanded. "We have literally nothing other than the clothes you just put on our back."

" _Finally_!" The Guide said happily. "Asking the right questions. Don't worry about it. Ah, you'll be needing this." She reached forward and pulled a small golden key from the air, tossing it to Dean.

He caught the key easily and frowned at it. "What's this?" He asked, lost.

"Wait, is that a Gringott's vault key?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"Precisely!" She beamed approvingly at Sam. "Excellent work. It is indeed a key to Gringott's. Your vault number is 803. I gave 666 to your friend Crowley, I'm sure he will be okay with that. 777 is your friend Castiel's. There is more than enough money for you to buy what you need, and your new jobs pay a nice sum as well."

"Wait, jobs?" Sam asked. "Jobs where?"

"Why, Hogwarts of course!" She said delightedly. "Where else? Sam, congratulations, you are the new co-teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will be taking the fifth, sixth, and seventh years while Remus Lupin takes the first through third years."

"Wait, Remus Lupin?" Sam repeated. "He's dead!"

"Time is a relative thing for me." She shrugged. "Your timeline and there's merge during Harry's third year at Hogwarts. Moving on, Dean, you and Rubeus Hagrid will be splitting up the Care of Magical Creatures subject. Same as Sam, you will take the later year students while Hagrid takes the younger. You both come highly recommended by the way. The back stories I gave both of you, it would not surprise me at all if you were recognized by many of the people here shopping today."

"You want to tell us these back stories?" Dean demanded. "You know, it might help on account of the whole 'we don't know what we are doing here thing'!"

"Mm, no, I don't think so." She grinned. "Have fun. If you need me, I'll show up."

Like a light being flicked off, the Guide vanished. Simply gone. "Well this sucks." Dean said after staring at the spot for a moment. He looked to Sam and asked, "Well? What do we do now?"

"What makes you think I know?" Sam frowned.

"Well, you _are_ the nerd here, figured you would have at least an idea." Dean shrugged.

"Well, do you think what the Guide said is true?" Dean asked. "About the whole not being able to get our butts out of here?"

"Probably." Sam admitted. "I mean, if this is _really_ Harry Potter that means this thing is powerful. Like, God powerful."

"Alright, so we're screwed." Dean sighed.

"Maybe not." Sam said slowly, frowning. When Dean sent him a questioning look Sam shrugged and continued, "Look, she didn't seem like she wanted to hurt us or kill us or whatever. She honestly reminded me a lot of the Trickster, just not as vindictive."

"Yeah, I definitely got a bit of the whole Trickster vibe off of her too." Dean grunted. He paused and looked questioningly to Sam. "You don't think…?"

"That the Guide is actually Gabriel in disguise?" He finished the thought with a snort. "No, not a chance. Gabriel is dead for one, and for two this kind of thing seems too powerful even for him. When he trapped us in TV Land it seemed like that was pretty much the limit to his power. This sort of thing is too much, even for an archangel."

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean sighed. "That kinda sucks too, we know how to gank an archangel."

They lapsed into silence, both of them contemplating their situation. "We might as well head to Gringott's." Sam said finally. "If we are going to survive here, we need some stuff."

"Yeah, and I am starving." Dean agreed, "I could really use a burger. How do we get there?"

"Not a clue." Sam admitted. When he saw the look Dean gave him he rolled his eyes. "Dude, I read the books years ago. And they didn't exactly give directions on how to get everywhere."

"Well until we get a handle on this, you are our go to expert on things." Dean informed him, striding purposefully out of the alleyway. He grabbed the sleeve of a passing motherly looking witch with a small red-haired girl in tow and smiled apologetically. "Excuse me, sorry, my brother and I are a bit lost-."

"Well I'll be!" The witch said excitedly, "Aren't you Dean Winchester?"

"Uh… yeah." He said slowly, glancing over to Sam as his brother came to stand beside him with a astonished look on his face. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"No, forgive me, but I read one of your books! The one on garden gnomes and how to get rid of them? Oh, let me tell you, it was wonderful! I haven't had a gnome ruining my tomatoes in weeks!"

"Oh, yeah, well… um… those gnomes, they are a handful." Dean said, blanking for a decent response. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I really need to get going…"

"Oh, yes of course, forgive me." The woman smiled embarrassedly. "Right down the street, take a left at Ollivander's and you'll be there."

Dean thanked the woman and turned back to Sam, eyes full of questions. "Alright, what now?"

"Dude, that was Molly Weasley." Sam said, his eyes on the woman's back as she moved down the street. "And Ginny too. They _knew_ you."

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean said, grabbing his brother's shoulder. "Hey, come on, focus. Let's get to this Grinning goats place and grab whatever is in the vault."

"Gringott's." Sam corrected, turning down the street. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as they walked, eyes roaming the street as places he only read about came alive. "It's a wizarding bank, ran by goblins."

"Well, that's helpful." Dean slipped the key into his pocket and moved out of the way as a man with an owl in a cage moved by. "Any idea what we will need?"

"We should probably get a wand first." Sam said, glancing sidelong as they passed Ollivander's wand shop. Several young wizards and witches were in there, crowded around the counter as a silver haired man laden with boxes placed them onto the counter. "We're gonna need them."

"Alright, that's step one." Dean said, nodding.

"We should probably find Cas and Crowley next." Sam offered. "The Guide sent them to Hogsmeade, so we need to figure out a way to get there."

"Aren't there some, I don't know, magical ways of getting us there?" Dean asked hopefully. "Say some funny words crap and abra kadabra us to where we wanna go?"

"Well, we can always try to make a portkey, but that's probably a bad idea. Magic here doesn't work the same way that it did back home" Sam admitted. "And, if I remember correctly, apparating can go really bad."

"So we're walking, great." Dean sighed. He the brightened as he remembered. "Wait a minute, wasn't there like broomsticks or whatever in this world? Why don't we grab one of those puppies and fly our way out of here?"

"Dude, we can't just boost a broomstick like we would a car." Sam rolled his eyes. "They have spells and stuff that prevent things like that, and I can't hotwire a spell."

"Okay, so what's your idea then?" Dean snapped.

"Look, there is a train station not far from here." Sam began to explain. He was about to say more when he saw a large building before them sporting the name 'Gringott's' in ornate lettering. "This is it."

"Okay, let's roll." Dean said, climbing up the stairs and striding through the doors. He paused immediately on the other side of the doors.

Sam bumped into his brother and pushed past him with a frown. "Dude, stop staring." He said urgently under his breath, grabbing his brother by the arm and hauling him along with him. "Griphook is at the end of the desks, the highest one."

Dean followed after his brother, wishing that he still had his gun with him for at least some protection. Thankfully, Sam did the majority of the talking when it came to actually speak to the goblins. In no time at all they were on a trolley headed into the depths of the bank. "Not very common we get Americans doing business with us." The goblin escorting them said with a nasty smile. "You prefer to do your own banking if memory serves."

"Well, we just, uh, got new positions at Hogwarts so we thought it would be a good idea." Sam explained quickly. "That's not a problem right?"

"No problem at all, gold is gold." The goblin shrugged as the trolley came to a halt in front of a large metal door. He took the key from Dean and waddled up to the door, inserting the key into the almost invisible keyhole.

"Oh holy crap." Dean said in awe as they beheld the contents of their vault. "I take it all back, that Guide is okay with me."

Their vault was quite literally nearly filled with gold. Stacks of the yellow metal lined the walls and nearly spilled out the front of the vault. Exchanging glances filled with wonder Sam and Dean walked warily forward their hands reaching out as if the gold may disappear the second they touched it. "Come on, come on." The goblin said irritably. "Grab your gold and let's get a move on."

Dean whirled on the goblin and fixed him with the look he ordinarily reserved for monsters that hurt Sammy. "If you take this moment from me, I will lock you in a vault."

Surprised by this sudden aggression the goblin went quiet, though it glared at Dean. Turning back to Sam he saw that his brother was already stuffing his pockets with handfuls of gold. "I am so proud of you right now." Dean said, seizing a handful of gold and placing them in his own pockets.

"Ahem." The goblin said, holding out a large cloth sack. "For an accurate count of your withdrawal we would prefer if you used our Charmed pouches to take your money."

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that." Dean said, transferring the coins in his pocket to the pouch. He and Sam filled it with the gold coins Sam called 'Galleons' until the sack was full to bursting. Dean took one final look at the vault and shook his head. "We're good."

They left Gringott's in a much quicker fashion than they arrived, despite being laden down with a sack full of gold. "So you said this wand place is next, right?" Dean asked, looking adoringly at the sack full of gold. "I love this place. So much gold."

Sam led the way to the wand shop, entering just as Ollivander finished helping a small blond-haired witch with a large portly man watching over her. The silver haired old man put away the box he had been holding, before turning to address the new customers. He raised an eyebrow at the arrivals and smiled knowingly. "Sam and Dean Winchester." He said, striding past the counter and shaking both of their hands. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Ollivander."

"Uh, yeah." Dean said, smiling in spite of himself at the old man's kind mannerism. "Guess I am here to find myself a wand."

"Yes, yes." Ollivander nodded in understanding. "I heard about the two of you losing your wands, terrible thing though you came to the right place for a new one. I understand you Americans are fond of the Beauvais family, but I won't fault you for that. So, let's begin shall we?"

As Ollivander disappeared behind a rectangular box-laden shelf Sam and Dean looked to one another in curiosity. "You, uh, you said you heard about how we lost our wands?" Sam asked. "We didn't know that it was so well publicized over here, what do you know?"

"Well, and I know rumors tend to be exaggerated, quite a lot actually." Ollivander said, returning to the counter with several boxes in his arms. "From what I was told, Mr. Winchester, you were hunting down a particularly dangerous Dark Wizard that had been Obliviating Muggles and tricking them into believing they were sent on a mission to kill their families. Dreadful business. You found the wizard and defeated him, but the Muggle he had just obliviated turned on you and broke your wand in the ensuing struggle. Is that correct?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it." Sam said with a reassuring smile.

"What about me?" Dean asked curiously. "I mean, you got Sam's pretty much spot on."

"From what we were told you had been working with a basilisk, excellent work by the way training such a creature, and your wand had been crushed by the beast. But you finished your project. Who would have guessed that a basilisk's gaze was not _always_ fatal? Truly a remarkable discovery!"

"Yeah, sure was. Lots of work too." Dean said, absentmindedly wondering what a basilisk was. He was certain he had come across the word in his research, but couldn't remember.

"Well, let's get started shall we?" Ollivander asked, pulling a wand out of a box and handing it to Dean. He took it and looked blankly at the shop owner. Ollivander gave him a go-on gesture and said, "Give it a wave!"

"Alright here goes." Dean said, stepping back and giving the wand a half-hearted wave. Immediately he felt a shock course through his body, causing him to jerk and drop the wand. "What the hell was that?" He demanded as soon as he could speak.

Ollivander moved quicker than Dean had expected the old man to be able to and snatched up the wand. "Not that one then," He said curiously, not at all concerned with the rejection of the wand.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded. "That thing shocked me!"

"Yes, that was a more violent rejection than I have seen in quite some time." Ollivander agreed. "But, the wand chooses the wizard so what do you expect? Ah, here we are!" He offered Dean another wand and gestured for another test.

Somewhat apprehensively this time, Dean gave this wand a wave and was sent flying backwards to crash against the shop's wall. He fell to the ground and slowly got back to his feet, glaring at the wand in his hand. Ollivander hurried to collect the wand but Dean held up a hand, his face blazing determination. He gave the wand another wave, bracing himself for another impact. This time however he merely skidded back a few feet, his back bumping into the wall. "Mr. Winchester, I would recommend choosing a different wand…" Ollivander said slowly, extending his hand for the wand in question. "A battle of wills between wizard and wand almost never ends well."

But Sam knew the look on his brother's face, it was the same one he got whenever he faced down a monster. "Yeah, no, that's the one he likes." Sam said with a wince. "Trust me, you have a better chance of changing the wand's mind than his."

"Well, the choice ultimately resides with you." The old man said uncertainly, glancing warily to Dean as he continued to wave the wand fiercely. "But, if you say so, perhaps a stubborn wand _is_ suited for a stubborn wizard."

"You have no idea." Sam agreed. Ollivander handed him a wand and he took a step back. Sam gave the wand a wave and suddenly shivered as his hair was drenched in water. "Not this one." He said, handing the wand back.

"Let's try this one…." Ollivander said, exchanging that one for a slightly darker one. "Yew and dragon heartstring."

Sam immediately felt the connection with this one, a feeling of warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, that's the one." He told Ollivander. Sam glanced to Dean's and asked, "What's his?"

"Thunderbird Tail Feather and Snakewood…" Ollivander mused. "You know, your brother seems like quite the stubborn, fixated wizard."

"Once he gets something in his mind, nothing changes it." Sam nodded.

Ollivander chuckled and shook his head. "I made that wand years and years ago. Decades, in fact. Your brother was the one hundred and fifteenth person I had try it. _But_ he was the first to try again after the first time. That wand was the first and only one I created with Thunderbird Tail Feather as its core. I have not made any more because of its reaction to wizards. Perhaps those two were meant for one another."


	3. The Other Professor

"So, what now?" Dean asked, storing his wand in his pocket as they left Ollivander's shop. After what seemed like hours, but what was in actuality only about twenty minutes, the wand had ceased in its attempts to dissuade the stubborn man from claiming it. They had paid the old wand-maker, Dean had been delighted at the weight still left in their bag, and departed the store shortly after. Sam looked at his brother questioningly and Dean spread his arms wide, "Look man, I didn't read the damn books. You're the nerd here so, I don't know, be nerdy."

"Dude, do you really think I know much more than you do about this place?" Sam asked incredulously, despite the fact that he took point in leading them through Diagon Alley. "I read the books, that's it."

"Well, I didn't." Dean said flatly. "So, until we get an idea of how things work here, you are the go to. The Guide said that she sent Cas to some place called Hogmeade, right? How do we get there?"

"Uh, well, there is a train that students take to get to Hogwarts. If memory serves, it isn't too far from here… at least I don't think it is. It never seems far in a book."

"Okay, any idea who we can ask?" Dean asked, determination in his eyes now that they had an idea of where they were going. "Maybe that red-haired lady? You know who she is, and she apparently knows us."

"Ah, forgive me, are you the Winchesters?" A tired-but-kind voice asked them, belonging to a gaunt-faced younger man in robes that had clearly seen better days.

Dean glanced to Sam and saw the familiar look of recognition that had appeared when he had seen Molly Weasley. "Yeah, that's us." Dean said, smiling coldly.

The newcomer extended a hand and smiled tiredly. "Remus Lupin. Sam, you and I will be working together this upcoming year at Hogwarts." Dean immediately found himself being drawn to this Lupin fellow, though he wasn't sure why. He had clearly been through a lot, his eyes filled with wisdom well beyond his years. Eyes like Dean's own, and Sam's. He took the proffered hand and Lupin shook once, firmly, and then quickly released it. "You two looked a bit lost, is this your first time in Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah, uh, sorry." Sam said, recovering quickly when Dean sidled over to him and prepared an elbow to drive into his little brother's ribs. He had to get better at meeting the people he knew only in books, otherwise things would begin to be said about him. "Actually, we were looking for Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Got a bit turned around, I guess."

"Not a problem." Lupin said, coughing into his hand as he reached into his pocket with the other and withdrew a pocket watch. "You are welcome to come along with me, if you'd like. The train will be departing in about half an hour, which gives us just enough time to get there and get situated." Lupin began to cough again, much rougher this time, so much so that he dropped his pocket watch and braced his hands on his knees to keep from falling over.

"Dude, you alright?" Dean asked worriedly, plucking the pocket watch off the ground and handing it to Lupin once he regained enough composure to stand straight again.

Lupin smiled appreciatively and settled the pocket watch into his robes once again. "Thank you. I am fine, just somewhat out of sorts. Last night was the full moon, you see."

"Oh." Dean, who had never once so much as glanced at a Harry Potter book, instantly made the connection between the full moon and the gaunt, haggard man before him. "You're a werewolf?"

"An unfortunate condition." Lupin admitted, keeping his voice low as a passerby overheard them and glared disgustedly at Lupin, stopping where he stood. "One that not many people seem to be… shall we say 'amicable' to."

"You got some kind of problem, pal?" Dean asked coldly, returning the glare that the random passerby was directing at Lupin. The wizard seemed surprised at Dean's animosity and opened his mouth to say so but Dean cut him off. "If you say so much as a word, I will come over there and stick your wand where the sun don't shine. Get walking."

The bystander did just that, glancing over his shoulder worriedly in case Dean had decided to make good on his promise. He turned back to Lupin and saw that the man was looking at him and Sam strangely. "Professor, something wrong?" Sam asked worriedly, accustomed to Dean's antics.

"No, not at all." Remus said finally, picking up a small suitcase he had placed at his feet to shake Dean's hand. "Forgive me once more, I am… not accustomed to people not batting an eye when they hear about my condition. Please, both of you, we are colleagues; call me Remus."

"Ah, screw them." Dean said, waving a hand airily. "A friend of ours is a werewolf, people are just dicks."

Sam nodded and then said, "Anyways, you said that we had to get going to the train?" He said, steering the conversation away from any potential questions about Garth or anything like that.

"Ah, yes, we should get going." Remus agreed, starting down the stone path in the exact opposite direction Sam and Dean had been moving. "I suppose it is good fortune for us to meet one another. Sam, I hope that you won't mind comparing lesson ideas on the train? I understand you are taking the later-year students. With their two former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors having been… incapacitated their education has been stunted at best. I had thought to go to the basics with the younger students, grindylows and what not. Perhaps a boggart for the third years, depending on how quickly they move through their studies. What about yourself?"

"Uh, well, I had thought to play it by ear." Sam said uncertainly, clapping his hands against his robes. He thought furiously back to the books, attempting to remember any and all creatures that Lupin had _not_ covered in his class. "Maybe dementors-." He stopped when Lupin made a noise of disgust and looked at him curiously.

Lupin smiled apologetically and shook his head. "That was not a sound of annoyance at your lesson idea, Sam." He assured him. He paused and looked at the two. "You two recently got here, correct? Been paying much attention to the local news?"

"No, not really." Dean said honestly, stepping carefully around a small child that was chewing something and breathing fire. "Something happen we should know about?"

"You could say that." Lupin said lightly, stepping into an alley and tapping a brick with his wand. The bricks began to fall away into nothingness, revealing a tunnel leading to the main street of the non-wizarding world. After the three stepped through the bricks began to reemerge from the ground and stack themselves back up. Dean stopped in his tracks and watched the reassembly happen, fascinated. Lupin seemed to sense this and turned around, clearing his through loudly. "Dean, I hate to tear you away from a good piece of magic but we are running a bit behind schedule and the Hogwarts Express is never late. I fear we would have to take some other means of transport should we miss our train, and I despise traveling the Floo Network. This cough could make me mispronounce my destination and land me somewhere quite unsavory."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry." Dean said, jogging to catch up to them. "Just… kinda cool."

"Oh, I am in complete agreeance with you. A reassembly, vanishing, and conjuring spell acting in complete harmony is a difficult bit of magic to accomplish by anyone's standards." Lupin agreed. "Not many wizards are up to the task. Now, I was telling your brother of the newest information about the happenings in this part of the world, are you interested?"

"Yeah, sure." Dean said, happy to move on from his little side trip. "Haven't been here before."

"Really?" Lupin asked, surprised. "I thought I remember reading something about you coming here to research a potential new species of banshee that was terrorizing a village a few miles up the road?"

"Well, yeah." Dean blustered, smiling a bit too hard. "But I didn't, you know, come _here._ I was busy with work and stuff."

"A man dedicated to his profession, I respect that." Lupin said, nodding. "As I was saying, a very dangerous criminal by the name of Sirius Black has recently escaped Azkaban prison, have you heard of that?"

"High security prison for the most dangerous wizards and witches you guys have, yeah I've heard of it." Sam nodded. He wasn't sure how well known Azkaban was or if he had even heard of it, but beings that he was apparently some manner of Auror it only made sense that he would have. "Haven't heard of this Sirius Black guy though."

"It does not surprise me that you haven't." Lupin said gravely. "From what I understand you were having your own issues at the time with some sort of dark uprising. Sirius Black is a killer. Convicted of murdering a wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew and several others with a blast charm. Terrible, truly."

"And this guy managed to spring himself?" Dean asked disbelievingly. "What, were the guards taking a break or something?"

"No one has ever managed to escape from Azkaban." Lupin said uncomfortably. "How he did it is a mystery, even to the guards. Which brings me to the next item I wanted to inform you about." Lupin had led them into a train station by this time, threading his way easily through the masses of people desperate to get to their trains. Sam and Dean, who were considerably larger than the gaunt man, followed him as well as they could. They remained barely within earshot of him, just able to discern what he was saying.

"Because of the danger that Black poses, the Ministry of Magic here has decided that their students deserve the best attention and protection available to them." Lupin said, speaking a bit louder in order for himself to be heard above the humdrum of the train station. "So, despite Dumbledore's wishes, they have sent a small amount of dementors to guard Hogwarts in the events that Sirius Black tries to get into the school and attempt to harm any of the students."

They ended up in front of a large brick pillar and Lupin nodded at the two before slipping through the bricks as though they were not there at all. Dean looked immediately to Sam, demanding some sort of explanation from him. The larger brother shrugged his shoulders and said, "Apparently you just walk through. That's what the books say to do."

"Really? That's it?" Dean asked, annoyed. "Real helpful."

"Hey, you could have read the books too." Sam snapped, taking a step forward and reaching out to touch the brick wall. It appeared to be solid to his touch and he shook his head. "If this doesn't work, we are going to smash our heads pretty hard."

"Wait, what?" Dean asked.

"In the books, Molly Weasley said that the best thing to do was to run through if it was your first time." Sam admitted, readying himself for a run. He patted Dean on the shoulder and began to sprint. He braced himself with his arms in case the wall didn't allow him through, but it appeared to be a moot point. Going through the wall felt like going through a waterfall and he staggered to a stop, beholding the magnificence that was King's Cross Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He turned to see if Dean made it through and was promptly knocked off his feet by a luggage laden trolley with a familiar white snowy owl in a cage on top. "Oh, sorry!" The younger boy said fretfully, moving to offer Sam his arm. "I didn't see you there, I was looking for my friends see."

"Yeah, it's fine." Sam said, getting to his feet with the help of the little boy though he didn't do much. He did a double take when he saw the kid, fighting the urge to glance up at the lightning-bolt shaped scar he knew would be on his forehead beneath a mop of unkempt hair. "No harm done. Nice owl, by the way."

A moment later, just as the boy was about to respond, Dean came barreling through the entrance only to trip over the cart and go sailing in the air to a skidding stop. "Ugh, oh man, what just happened?" He groaned, rolling to his feet and shaking his head to clear it. "And where the hell am I?"

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters…" Harry said slowly, looking worriedly to Sam. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." Dean said dismissively, looking over the train now and nodding.

"Sam! Dean!" Lupin called, beckoning them over from where he stood by the train.

"Gotta go." Sam said, nodding a goodbye to Harry.

They hurried to Lupin and the professor looked around them to where Harry was now rearranging his things on his cart, courtesy of Dean dislodging them with his fall. "Are you two alright?" Lupin asked, apparently having seen their ordeal. "Who was that?"

"Yeah, we're fine." Dean said dismissively. "And I don't know, probably just some kid."

Lupin appeared unconvinced but nodded all the same. "Come on," He said, opening a door to the train and stepping inside. "Let's get ourselves a cabin before the students take them all. It would be quite a trip if we were forced to stand the whole way."


	4. Brothes' Patronus

The three new professors boarded the train rather quickly as the students were encumbered with luggage and such whereas they only had the one small bag that Lupin was carrying. The haggard young man led the way to an unoccupied cabin and took a seat, gesturing for Sam and Dean to take the other. "So this is your first time to Hogwarts then?" Lupin asked pleasantly, smiling at the two as he settled back into his seat.

"Uh, yeah, that's right." Sam nodded. He paused and then quickly added, "But I'm sure that it's a great place."

"The best wizarding school in the world." Lupin said confidently, his smile growing slightly. He paused meaningfully, almost as though waiting for Sam and Dean to argue the point and then raised an eyebrow. "Odd, I had thought you would say something against that effect."

"Yeah, well, haven't been there so who are we to judge?" Dean said honestly. He glanced to the glass in the doors as students in black robes began to pass by. "So, if you don't mind my asking, how do you deal with the whole… werewolf thing?"

"You know, it still fascinates me that you haven't once looked at me different even knowing that I am a werewolf." Lupin said amusedly. The amusement lasted only a few moments before his face became more drawn and he sighed. "To make a long story short, have you ever heard of a werewolf by the name of Fenrir Greyback?"

"A werewolf determined to overthrow the current government for their persecution of werewolves with ties to Dark Wizards." Sam nodded, assuming his role as an Auror would have given him access to such information. "Yeah, we've been keeping tabs on him."

"Well my father offended him in some way and you see the results." Lupin smiled quietly. "You know, my parents were worried that my affliction would prevent me from ever attending Hogwarts, let alone any formal schooling. Thankfully enough Professor Dumbledore did not bat an eye even after being told."

"Sounds like a great guy." Dean said.

"He is, that and more." Lupin agreed. He yawned, covering his mouth with one hand and leaned his head against the window. "If you two don't mind, I would like to get some sleep. Changes leave me very tired for several days."

"Yeah, sure." Sam nodded, rising from his seat a bit too quickly. "Dean, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Dean followed his brother out of the cabin, closing the door quietly after them in consideration for his new sleeping friend. Sam moved down the train a few cabins and opened one that was relatively empty, ushering the kids out of the cabin with the reason 'professor business' and closed the door behind him. "What's your deal?" The elder brother asked curiously, seeing the tension on his brother's face.

"Look, I don't know how the Guide brought us here or anything like that, but I do know we can't affect the timeline." Sam said urgently, gripping his brother's shoulders.

"Affect the timeline?" Dean said, shrugging Sam's hands off of him. "What do you mean?"

"In the books, Harry never tripped over luggage." Sam explained quickly. "And the books definitely _never_ had us."

"You know, I wondered how long it would take you two to come across that little dilemma." The Guide's familiar voice, filled with concealed laughter, echoed through the cabin. A few moments later she materialized on the seat beside the Winchesters, garbed in the same black robes that the Winchesters were wearing. She smiled pleasantly at the Winchesters as she crossed her legs and put her hands behind her head. "Nice seeing you two again, enjoying the wizarding world?"

"Are you just going to drop by whenever you want?" Dean asked coldly, poking his head into the aisle and seeing that the Guide had not frozen time for this appearance.

"I could." She said fairly, pursing her lips and tilting her head to one side. "But no, I don't think so. I just thought I would pop in and let you know that Sam is right, you affect the timeline. Well, the one that he knows at any rate. But time and circumstance are subject to constant temporal flux. You can't truly be here without affecting _something._ "

"So everything that I know about this universe is useless?" Sam demanded, making a sound of annoyance in his throat. "Great."

"Oh, I wouldn't say _useless_." Guide corrected. "You might affect some things, some big and some large, but for the most part the central destiny of this universe won't change. Not unless you two really screw up. So try not to do that, eh?"

Dean opened his mouth to ask a question but, at that moment, a student threw open the cabin door and nearly knocked the professor over as he leapt inside the cabin. Sam caught the staggering Dean and helped him regain his balance, noting that the Guide had vanished. "What's going on?" Sam demanded once Dean had turned around to face the student. "We were having a conversation, did you want to get-."

"Th- they're here!" the student, a small mousy haired blonde boy, said with terror evident in his voice. "D-d-d-."

Dean pulled the student deeper into the cabin and reached behind his back, presumably to where he always kept his gun, and came up with nothing. "No guns here." Sam reminded him, drawing his wand. He knew what the young boy, whom he vaguely remembered as Colin something-or-other, had seen. Sure enough, a few moments later a cold feeling of dread swept through the cabin. To the Winchesters, who had been through hell, purgatory, and watching the death of countess friends, the effects of the dementors were terrible. But they had survived all of those experiences, those and more, and misery was a feeling that they were more than used to.

"You want some?" Dean demanded, his face pale but determined. He drew his wand and leveled it at the dark-robed figure. "Bring it on, bitch!"

The dementor seemed to sense Dean's hostility and extended one emaciated hand towards the Winchester, who stood his ground defiantly. Though he had read about it, Sam had truly underestimated how difficult it was to conjure up feelings of happiness in the face of such hopelessness. His body felt heavy but seeing Dean in danger, as it always did, gave him a surge of energy. He dredged up the memory of seeing Dean after he had returned from death the first time and shouted, " _Expecto Patronum!_ " For a long heartbeat it seemed as though the spell would fail, but a figure suddenly burst forth from the tip of his wand.

The silver figure, a long serpent, slithered through the air and wrapped itself around the dementor, staggering the foul creature. The dementor made an inhuman shrieking sound and fled the cabin, the door sliding shut behind it. The effects of the dementor disappeared once the door was closed and the young student collapsed onto a seat and started to weep into his hands. "Hey, come on." Dean said, giving his shoulder a small shake. "Toughen up, crying doesn't do you any good."

"Looks like beginner's luck is a thing here." Sam said offhandedly, staring down at the serpent as it coiled up on the floor.

"The hell is that thing?" Dean asked curiously, crouching down to examine the snake. He outstretched his hand to touch it and the Patronus snapped at his hands, causing him to quickly retract it.

"It's called a Patronus Charm." Sam explained. "They ward off dementors, that thing you just saw. You just say the words I did and think of the happiest memory you can."

Screams echoed throughout the train then, presumably as dementors considered their raid of the train. "Does it kill them?" Dean asked brusquely, thinking on his happiest memory.

"No, just gets rid of them." Sam said. "But that's good enough for now. Remus should be waking up any second now."

"Let's do this." Dean said, opening the cabin door and stepping into the aisle with his wand drawn. Sam followed a moment later, watching each side as Dean closed the door. He paused before it was totally shut and poked his head back inside the cabin. "Hey, I meant it. Quit crying. It never did anyone any good." He told Colin sternly.

Once the door to the cabin was closed Sam and Dean glanced at one another and nodded. Sam went off in one direction whilst Dean took the other. Sam's serpent slithered a few meters in front of him, acting as a deterrent between him and the dementors.

"Happiest memory…" Dean murmured, still thinking about that. He had by no means had an easy life, but he had some happy times. The problem for Dean was that for every happy memory he had, there was usually a sad one accompanying it. His first idea had been when Sam had returned from the Cage, but then came the memory that he had temporarily lost his soul there. He thought of when he lost the Mark of Cain, but that too was marred. He had tried to kill Sam mere moments before. "Come on, happy memory!" He snarled to himself.

A moment later, screams rang out a few cabins before him. For whatever reason, this had a jumpstarting effect on his memory. The one that swam to his mind was a simple one, nothing truly spectacular about it. But it was happy, truly happy. He, Sam, and Cas had just returned from a hunt and were sitting around a table. This was when Cas had lost his grace and was human, still getting used to the ins and outs of humanity. They had been gathered around the bunker's table and were just drinking and talking. It wasn't anything special, most wouldn't even consider it, but to Dean it was important. Laughing, drinking, and simply talking about nothing with the two most important people in his life.

The dementor who was terrorizing the students paused as it sensed the good thoughts flowing through Dean. Raising his wand, Dean repeated the words that Sam had only a few minutes before. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " From the tip of his wand burst forth a large silver creature, bounding forward on four legs to charge the dementor and send it screeching away. The patronus watched the dark figure retreat and then trotted lightly back to its caster, staring at Dean. "Badass." Dean said, reaching out to touch the patronus. The silver impala reared back slightly and then disappeared in a fine silver mist.


	5. Arrival

Hunting down dementors was far more in line with the Winchesters' comfort zone. Sam took one end of the train, his Patronus slithering before him and striking at all dementors that came within its reach. Dean took the other end, his impala charging down all of the dark robed figures. To Dean's delight he saw another Patronus belonging to Remus join his in the hallway. "Nice to see you." Dean grinned, watching Lupin's silver wolf and his impala work in concert to send a dementor shrieking away.

"Though I wish it were under better circumstances, the entrance feast for instance, it is nice to have someone capable to rely on." Lupin said with a wry grin. He glanced back towards the end of the train that Dean had come from and asked, "I assume Sam is handling the other end of the train?"

"Yeah, he's got it," Dean nodded. "What's with these things attacking the train anyways?"

"Oh, they aren't attacking," Lupin assured him. "No, I would hazard a guess that they are searching. Sirius Black escaping has, I am sure, left them rather upset. Besides a train full of students excited about going back to school would be hard for them to resist. Undoubtedly they thought that they would conduct a search and feed whilst they were at it."

"On a train full of kids?" Dean demanded, stowing his wand away in his pocket as he and Lupin came upon the end of the train. "What kind of crap is that?"

"The very unfortunate kind I am afraid," Lupin said gravely. "Although it seems that the danger is gone. If you don't mind, one of the students in my cabin was rather badly affected by the dementors. I thought I might give him some chocolate and help him recover some of his strength. We should be pulling into the station soon enough at any rate."

"Yeah, I want to find Sam and make sure he is alright," the Winchester agreed.

"I assume that the three of us will be having our meeting with the headmaster at the same time," Lupin mused. "I think it would be good if Sam and I sat down and hashed out this schedule between us. I assume that you will want to do the same with Hagrid?"

"Who?" Dean asked blankly, wishing Sam was here to provide him with information.

"Rubeus Hagrid, your co-teacher?" Remus asked slowly. A light went off behind his eyes and a rueful smile spread across his face. "Forgive me, I had forgotten momentarily that Hagrid's appointment to Care of Magical Creatures Professor was not a well-known status change."

"Dean!" Sam called, rushing down the passageway just as the train's brakes screeched. "Remus! You two okay?"

"I would hope that a Defense Against the Dark Arts and a Care of Magical Creatures would be able to handle themselves well against a few wayward dementors." Remus said, smiling to show he was not to be taken seriously. "Well, if you two will excuse me I will see you at our meeting with the Headmaster."

With a nod, Remus left the two brothers just as students began to file out of their various cabins. "So, this our stop?" Dean asked once Lupin was well out of earshot. "You know, to find Crowley and Cas?"

"I think so," the younger Winchester said uncertainly. When Dean fixed him with a look, he returned it defensively. "Look man, I'm doing the best I can. Hogwarts is close to Hogsmeade. I don't remember _exactly_ where the kids get dropped off at."

"Well, let's hope it's close by," Dean said, glancing outside and seeing a monstrously huge man standing there with a lantern illuminating his bearded face. "Holy crap, that guy is a giant."

"Half-giant," Sam corrected, peering out and seeing Hagrid standing there speaking happily to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "His mother was a- nevermind. Don't mention it, that doesn't really get discussed until the fifth year."

"Oh, son of a bitch." Dean muttered as his gaze swept past Hagrid and saw two familiar figures standing there. "Guess we don't have to search after all."

When Dean and Sam approached the demon and the angel Crowley glared at them venomously. "You _stupid_ morons," he spat. "Would it have killed you, just once, to leave things be and _not_ interfere with an all-powerful being?"

"Hey, you can't blame us for this one," Dean protested, making a 'stop' gesture with one hand. "It's not like we knew what the hell we were walking into. How did you guys make your way here, anyways?"

"Your pretty little harp player seems to have extensive knowledge of this realm," Crowley, still clearly annoyed, said sourly. "That and your new friend, the Guide, instructed us as to where we were to meet you. Wouldn't hear a word of any other plan. I tried."

"Yeah, she pretty much told us the same thing." Dean offered. "No leaving this place until she says so, or whatever."

"She's disabled our powers as well," Castiel said gravely. "Not that it would have done us much good. After she transported us here I, very briefly, had full access to my powers once more. I didn't pick up anything on angel radio."

"And I even tried to call Hell," Crowley admitted. "Not a word. It's like it didn't exist at all."

"You tried to call Hell?" Sam asked disbelievingly. "Who did you kill to make the call?"

"I don't _know_." Crowley said, clearly more concerned with Sam's annoyance than the murder itself. "Some fellow in one of those silly little robes you are wearing."

"Crowley you can't just go around killing anyone you want in this world!" Sam whispered severely, leaning close so that his nose was only inches from Crowley. "If you jack up this timeline we can't predict what will happen and that leaves us up the creek."

"Oh, calm down squirrel," the demon said in a bored voice, taking a step back. "After our little attempts of getting into contact with our respective contacts, the Guide showed up. Resurrected that fellow whose throat I cut and sent him on his way none the wiser. We had a lovely little chat about how we are stuck in this world and how we have to play by her rules."

"Yeah, she gave us the same shpiel." Dean commented, glancing back to see Hagrid as he ferried a bunch of frightened looking children towards a dark lake. "Did she tell you what she wants you to do here?"

"I am here to study something called a Muggle." Castiel said, somewhat uncertainly. "Based on the knowledge that Metatron gave me regarding literature I can only assume that she wants me to capture and study the anatomy of a non-magical human. Of course, I will have to study a magical human first. Do you think finding someone will be very hard?"

"No, Cas, you aren't going to study the anatomy of humans," Sam said. "You are supposed to… Oh no."

"What's up?" Dean asked worriedly. "Something wrong?"

"Muggle Studies is a class focusing on getting wizards to better understand non-magical people. Basically, normal every-day humans."

"Oh, crap." Dean said, immediately seeing the problem. "Cas, buddy, I hoped you were paying attention back on our world."

"I am an angel, I always pay attention." Castiel said simply, not following Dean's line of thinking.

"Well, that's all well and good." Crowley said, placing his hands into his pockets. "Perhaps you can enlighten me, Squirrel, on who this Madam Pomfrey woman is?"

"Uh, yeah, she's the school's nurse basically," Sam told him. "She runs the hospital wing, why?"

"Bollocks." Crowley said, staring down at the ground with slightly narrowed eyes.

"The Guide told him to report to her once he gets to the school," Castiel said.

"Wait, so you are going to be healing people and making them all better Crowley?" Dean cackled and shook his head. "Oh, that's rich."

"Excuse me, professors." A gruff voice came from behind them and Dean turned, expecting to see someone about his height. Instead he saw the stomach of a very large man, his eyes traveling up until he met Hagrid's. "But they won't start the feast until you meet with Professor Dumbledore. Got something special in mind for you."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that." Sam apologized. "Just sorting a few things out."

"Oh, it's alrigh'," Hagrid smiled. "Out o' curiosity, which of you are Dean?"

"Me," Dean said, looking Hagrid up and down several times.

"Rubeus Hagrid," the half-giant said, extending a hand and crushing Dean's by accident once the hunter placed his hand in Hagrid's. "Lookin' forward to workin' with you this year. Thought after dinner you and I could have a chat abou' what we are going to be teaching the kids this year."

"Uh, yeah sounds good." Dean said, retrieving his hand and flexing it several times behind his back. "So how are we going to get to the school?"

"Oh, I got a few trained thestrals that pull some carts to the school," Hagrid said, raising his chin proudly.

"Thestrals huh? Awesome." Dean said, smiling blankly as he did his best to bluff past this.

Hagrid gave an approving nod and grunt, turning down the train stop's brick steps and leading the way towards the carts without another word. "What are thestrals?" Dean asked under his breath to Sam, low enough so that Hagrid couldn't but Crowley and Castiel could.

Sam was quiet for a few beats in which Dean expected a response. He turned to his younger brother, another question on his tongue, but he stopped short when he saw the grim expression on his brother's face. "You'll see," he said softly, almost mournfully. "Trust me, you'll definitely see."

 **Hello readers, Hallowed here. A few of you have expressed interest in seeing crossovers similar to this. Thought it might be interesting to take requests, especially as I am planning on having our friend the Guide send the Winchesters to a few more worlds. So, where would you like to see them go at the conclusion of this story?**

 **Cheers, Hallowed**


	6. The Headmaster

"So what was the big deal about the horses?" Dean asked as Hagrid led the way up to the castle, each of his footsteps forcing them to take two just to keep up. He kept his voice low so that only Sam, Cas, and Crowley could hear him.

"They can only be seen by people who have seen someone die," Sam said grimly.

"That's it?" Crowley scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You made such a fuss back at the train station, I expected something much more involved."

"Not everyone is a heartless demon, Crowley," Sam snapped.

"Actually, I don't believe he qualifies as a demon currently," Castiel said slowly. "Nor I as an angel."

"Wait, what?" Dean asked, all thoughts of the thestral now gone. "What does that mean?"

"I believe that your formerly feather friend is referring to the fact that, disgustingly, we are both human now," Crowley said, a bit of disappointment in his voice. "Noticed it earlier when we were at the train. I didn't recognize the feeling at first, but after my stomach made an awful noise I realized I was hungry."

"So?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Demons don't get hungry." Crowley said dryly. "Really, Moose, you were supposed to be the smart yet sensitive one."

"So you have none of your demon mojo?" Dean asked. He had suspected as much, the Guide seemed to enjoy messing with things, but it still would have been nice to have that ace in the hole.

"Yet another reason for me to be annoyed with you," Crowley said. "As if I needed another."

"Professors, you al righ' back there?" Hagrid called, turning around to see them several meters back. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to bring you to him as fast as I could. That way your meetin' don' run into the feast you see."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Dean called back, hurrying to catch up to the giant man with the other three at his heels.

Hagrid led them through the massive doors that guarded the entrance to the school, pushing them open with little effort. A few older students glanced over and called a greeting to him, smiling. When their gaze switched to Winchesters, Crowley, and Castiel their smiles faltered and became polite but puzzled. "Who's this lot then, Hagrid?" One student called. "New groundskeepers?"

"Not quite, Oliver," Hagrid answered, "New professors."

The man's face paled slightly when he looked them over, his eyes fixing upon Dean. "Wait a minute, _YOU'RE DEAN WINCHESTER!_ "

"Uh, yes. Yes I am," Dean said, not at all liking the way the kid's eyes looked almost reverent.

"You played for the American National Quidditch Team!" the student moved forward and grabbed Dean's hand, shaking it vigorously. "You played for them in the 1990 Quidditch World Cup!"

Dean had absolutely no idea what Quidditch was, but he nodded all the same. "Yeah, that's right."

"Excuse me, Oliver, but I gotta get these four up to meet with Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said, interrupting any further conversation that the student may have had. "You'll have to wait to talk to him later."

"You've got to give us some pointers, you are one of the highest ranked Beaters in _Quidditch Weekly_ of all time!" Oliver said desperately, still shaking Dean's hand a little more violently than was absolutely necessary. "Please, please, come to our practices! We'd love for you to teach us some things. Do you have your broomstick? We can give you-."

"That's enough for now, Oliver." Hagrid said, removing Oliver's hand from Dean's and literally picking the student up and moving him away from Dean. "Now run along to the feast, I am sure that Professor Winchester will to be glad to talk to you later."

From Oliver's determined, and slightly manic, expression as he walked away Dean had no doubt that the student would be tracking him down soon enough. "Sorry abou' that," Hagrid said as he led the way up a massive staircase. "The students lose their min' a bit when celebrities visit. You lot shoulda seen them when Gilderoy Lockhart taught here."

"Yeah, that guy." Sam made a snort of derision and Hagrid seemed to echo the sentiment. "A real piece of work."

"Well, it takes all sorts don' it?" Hagrid said fairly. He paused at what appeared to be a dead end with no guard rail to prevent someone from falling over. "Ruddy staircases, they always like to make things difficult at the start of each term. Think it's a game, they do."

"The staircases?" Cas asked slowly, confusion knitting his brow. "I was not aware that inanimate objects could knowingly make things difficult."

"They're Charmed," Hagrid explained. "Makes it easier to get around, at least, when they listen."

"Dean, Sam, I do not think we should trust the staircases." Cas whispered seriously. "An object that shouldn't be able to think could be very dangerous. What if it gets itself stuck to prevent us from reaching our meeting?"

"Is this because of you getting stuck on that elevator?" Dean asked, frowning slightly. "Dude, I've told you, you have gotta get over that."

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Crowley said to himself, just loud enough for the others to hear, as he pulled a flask from the inside of his robes and took a draught. When he saw the looks that the Winchesters were giving him he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, forgive me, did I say that out loud?"

"You know, Crowley, you might want to drop the dick- act," Dean told him. "Like it or not, we are all stuck here."

Before Crowley could respond a staircase descended into place and they continued on their journey to the Headmaster's office. A familiar figure was awaiting them, standing before a large stone Gargoyle. "Professor, it's good to see you again," Hagrid said warmly, extending a giant hand and crushing Lupin's in his own. "You waitin' for these four then?"

"Good to see you as well Hagrid." Lupin said, wincing slightly and extracting his hand. "Yes, I thought it would be good for us to meet with Professor Dumbledore all together, wouldn't you agree?"

"I think you migh' be righ'." Hagrid nodded. "Well, if you don' mind I think I'll head down to the feast. Feelin' a bi' hungry ya see."

"Of course, we will meet you soon Hagrid," Remus said. "Before you go, do you know the password to the office?"

"Oh, righ'." Hagrid cleared his throat and said: "Fizzin' Whizbee."

Dean recoiled slightly as the gargoyle statue sprang to life, jumping aside to reveal an entrance that it had been previously guarding. "Holy crap," he said, disbelief in his voice. "That's kind of freaky."

Remus moved forward the moment that the gargoyle had moved aside, the others following after him and Castiel glaring suspiciously at the statue. "Is there something wrong?" The gargoyle asked, clearly annoyed at the animosity in the angel's expression.

"You shouldn't be able to talk," Castiel told him.

"And you are late for your meeting," The gargoyle ushered him further past him and jumped back onto its pedestal, sealing them inside.

Having fallen slightly behind, the angel hurried to catch up to the rest of the group as they opened the door to the main office. Dean stepped through first, followed by Sam and Remus. Crowley and Castiel brought up the rear. "Whoa," Dean muttered, turning in a small circle to observe the entirety of the room. Sam echoed the sentiment with a noise of disbelief.

A hundred odd sounds were coming from the dozens of small instruments about the room, many of them going about their business without someone actually using them. Even Crowley seemed taken aback. "Quite the collection," he admitted grudgingly, striding over to a silver pen that was writing on a piece of parchment seemingly of its own accord. He reached out to touch it and the pen whipped around, jabbing his hand, before returning to its task. "Little bastard."

"Yes, it is rather particular about who touches it," a kind, old voice admitted. The group turned just as an old man with half-moon spectacles and a long white beard descended a staircase. "There are times it does not even let _me_ touch it."

"Professor Dumbledore," Remus said, smiling and moving forward to shake the old man's hand. "It is good to see you."

"And you as well, Remus," Dumbledore returned the smile, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "I am glad to see you doing relatively well. I am even more pleased to see that you accepted my invitation to teach here."

"I owed this school, and you, a debt I could not ever begin to repay," Remus said seriously. "It is my privilege."

"You owe this school nor I anything," Dumbledore chuckled. "But, I suppose, if it was what got you to return here I should not question it. I see you have met our other four new employees as well?"

Remus smiled and nodded as Dumbledore moved past him and shook the hands of each of them in turn. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you, I have read and heard much." Dumbledore said kindly. "It is wonderful to have such accomplished teachers here, yourself included Remus."

"You're too kind," Sam said with a self-deprecating smile. "We haven't done that much."

"Oh I disagree very much," Dumbledore said seriously, crossing to a large desk and pulling what appeared to be a magazine from the depths and spreading it before him. "Samuel, making _Witch Weekly's_ most attractive male wizards for almost an entire year now, that is a feat that would make even Gilderoy Lockhart jealous."

"Wait, what?" Sam demanded, taking a step forward and retrieving the magazine from the Headmaster. Sure enough, shirtless, there was a picture of him smiling and winking at the camera. Sam's eyes widened in shock and he made to hide it but, unfortunately, Dean had moved forward as well and seen the picture.

"You posed _shirtless_?" Dean asked incredulously. "Wow. I don't even know what to say."

"Quite the accomplishment, eh Moose?" Crowley said, smirking.

"And you as well, Crowley!" Dumbledore pulled another magazine from his desk. This one was a bit thicker and bore a picture of a man in doctor's robes. "Opening your home to the less fortunate like you did. Such acts of kindness are rare in this world."

Dean glanced over to Crowley and nearly burst into laughter when he saw the revolted expression that the thought of kindness had given him. "I did what?" he asked after a few moments.

"And you, Castiel," Dumbledore paused and fixed him with a piercing look. "Strange name, that. I have heard many odd names but most of them are repeated if one searches for long enough. Yours however… I have never heard of someone with the name Castiel."

"It is a biblical name," Castiel said, attempting to be discreet as best he could.

"I see," Dumbledore said. "Well, someone who negotiates a treaty with the President of the United States and the American Magic world is more than welcome here. Your expertise with muggles will be invaluable I am sure. And you, Dean-."

"Yeah, if you don't mind can you skip me?" Dean asked quickly, not at all wanting to hear about what he had done. The thought of him having potentially done a photo shoot like Sammy was almost enough to make him gag. "So you asked to meet with us, right? What can we do for ya?"

"Well, as I am sure you are aware, you are the first Americans to teach here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained. "There has been some, unfortunate, hesitation in the parents of some of our students. I thought it might be best to at least partly merge you with some of the traditions that Hogwarts are famous for."

"Traditions?" Crowley asked, one eyebrow raised. "What sort of traditions?"

"The Sorting Ceremony," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "If you are amicable, I thought that we might sort you into Hogwarts houses. That should make the students, and their parents, a bit more at ease wouldn't you think?"

 **Hello my readers, Hallowed here once again. For the next crossover a lot of you have messaged me and left in the reviews that they would like to see an Avengers x Supernatural crossover series. Some of you have also mentioned Vampire Diaries(which would mean I would actually have to watch it). I am fine with writing both, however I would still love more ideas. Cheers, Hallowed**


	7. Entrance

After their, admittedly, brief meeting Dumbledore led the five men through the school, offering bits of trivia and advice regarding the many different quirks of the school. "And here we are," the old man said, opening a large door with one arm and making a sweeping gesture with the other. A large amount of noise came from within, everyone quickly identifying the voices as those belonging to children. "After you, I insist."

"You first, Mr. Model," Dean said, barely concealing a smirk at Sam's expense.

Sam scowled at his brother but took the invitation nonetheless, striding through the doorway. Cas, then Crowley, and finally Dean and Lupin entered the door. Evidently sensing the new arrivals, the students turned their heads to see who had arrived so late. By the time that they had reached the center of the Great Hall, Dumbledore following behind them with a pleasant grin, an expectant hush had fallen over the students. A small group of extremely young looking students were gathered at the front of the room; an elderly woman in a tall black witch's hat stood in front of them. She held a long list in her hand and at her side was an old stool with a worn and tattered hat on top of it.

"Please, would you mind standing with the new first years?" Dumbledore asked as he swept past them and took his place at the center of the table at which sat other older looking witches and wizards.

Dean and the others glanced around at the students, wary to see every eye on them. "Uh, what's going on?" Dean muttered to Sam under his breath. "Why the hell are they all staring at us?"

"Well the Guide did say we are all well known," Sam muttered back.

"What did the Headmaster mean when he referenced a Sorting Ceremony?" Cas wondered.

One little kid, probably barely thirteen, was gawking at them a little more intensely than the others and Crowley seemed to notice this. He sidled over to the child in question and leaned down, whispering something in his ear. The gawker immediately turned pale white and turned around to face forward, his back ramrod straight. "I hate children," Crowley said in response to the questioning glance that Lupin sent his way. "Disgusting little vultures, the lot of them."

"Don't you think you might be in the wrong place of employment then?" Lupin asked, frowning at the demon.

"Don't mind him," Dean said hurriedly, shooting Crowley a warning glance. "He has this saying, 'You don't need to like someone to slap a bandage on their ass.' Isn't that right, Crowley?"

"Oh, yes, of course." He said, contempt dripping from his words. "I am ever so devoted to my work you see."

"Ah, well, I suppose that makes sense," Lupin said, appearing unconvinced.

"Actually that logic does make sense." Castiel interjected. "It is, after all, the same logic that God employed when he stepped down from watching over mortals."

"Pardon me?" Lupin asked, frowning.

"Don't worry, he wasn't dead like we thought." Castiel assured him, "He was merely masquerading as a human, an author in fact."

Lupin opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch on his tongue as he stopped moving. In fact, everyone stopped. "You have got to be kidding me," The Guide said, appearing from the air beside Lupin. "I knew that you had a tendency to ramble, Castiel, but I never imagined it was this bad."

"I was not rambling, I was informing him of the-." Castiel began to protest.

"Okay, fine, but you can't just start talking like that. People here will look at you like you are different."

"But I _am_ different," Castiel said slowly. "I'm an angel."

The Guide looked at him curiously for a few moments and then burst into laughter. "You haven't noticed yet?" she asked incredulously. "Really? Wow, I'm surprised. Have you, Crowley?"

Sam and Dean turned to the demon, their faces drawn into curious expressions. "What's she talking about?"

"I believe that your meddlesome friend is referring to the fact that both the harp-player and I are both human," Crowley said, a bit sourly.

"Wait, what?" Dean demanded, turning back to Guide.

"Oh, come _on._ I sent you to an entirely different dimension and turning them into humans is what bothers you?" She asked with an annoyed stamp of her foot.

"Yeah, see, that's not the problem here," Sam said. "Cas might have been human before, but he isn't a very good one. He already has to figure out how to teach these kids about normal humans, which is going to be hard enough on him as it is."

"You know, you might have a point there," She admitted, crossing her arms and thinking. She then shrugged and smiled at them. "But, as you would say Dean, 'deal with it'."

"Wow, way to be a douche," Dean snapped. "You get off on this, don't you?"

"I might," She admitted, winking at him. "I'm going to resume time now. I cancelled out all the memories of your conversation with Lupin and replaced them with you speaking about how you will divide the work between your classes, Sam."

Her eyes blazed blue as she smiled again, vanishing. The sound in the Hall returned to a dull roar and Remus was saying, "You see, I feel as though a boggart may very well be a bit too advanced for second years but third years may well be able to handle it. The spell used to combat them isn't difficult, at least not overly so."

Now at least somewhat used to the Guide's abrupt appearance and disappearances, Sam smoothly stepped into the conversation. "Absolutely," he said nodding, glancing up to Dumbledore as he stood up and raised his hand for silence. Instantly, the entire Great Hall was even quieter than it had been when the five new professors had walked in.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing throughout the Hall though he didn't speak above his normal tones. "Before we begin our Sorting Ceremony, I would like for all of you to give your warmest welcome to our six newest professors."

"Six?" Dean wondered.

"In addition to the five you see before you, Rubeus Hagrid will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures alongside Dean Winchester. Remus Lupin and Sam Winchester will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. For those of you who wish to continue your Muggle Studies class into Muggle Government, Professor Castiel will be here for you. We also have a new face for the Hospital Wing, Mister Crowley will be joining Madame Pomfrey in order to better tackle any potential injuries that you will receive this year."

Dumbledore began to clap and soon the Great Hall roared with applause, the six men who had been addressed awkwardly waved off the applause except for Crowley whose face was set in a picture of disdain. "This is a bit of a new issue for Hogwarts as we have never before hired someone who was taught at a foreign school. There have been several complaints raised about my choice so in order for some tradition to be preserved the new professors, with the exception of Remus Lupin who is already a Gryffindor-" (Dumbledore paused as the Gryffindor table roared in approval) "have agreed to take place in this year's sorting ceremony."

Dumbledore sat back down and looked expectantly upon the hat which sat upon the old stool. Dean and the others followed his line of sight and took a slight step backward when the hat's brim ripped open and it began to sing. "Dude, hats sing in this place?" Dean demanded in a whisper. "The hell?"

"Not all hats, just this one," Sam responded.

"It's got a decent voice," Dean said after contemplating this. "Although I'd prefer some classic rock, but hey, I'm not judging."

Sam snorted in response and gave a small shake of his head. Dean glanced to Cas and saw that the former angel was looking at the hat with the same level of suspicion he reserved for monsters or computers. "Dude, it's a hat."

"I don't trust it," Cas responded just as the hat finished singing.

The woman in the pointed black hat cleared her throat and brought up the list. "Dean Winchester." She called clearly, picking up the hat with one hand.

Sam gave him a small push and Dean slowly began to move forward, the group of first-years moving aside to let him pass. He ascended the few steps to the stool and slowly took his seat. McGonnagall placed the hat on his head and took a step back as the brim split once more and a voice began to speak to Dean. "Hm, interesting life you have lived Dean Winchester." the hat said slyly. "And I don't mean this one. I can see it all in here, every experience you have had. The Mark of Cain? Nasty business that. Being tortured in hell? Quite a tough time, that. Oh, I could spend all night just looking through these nasty memories of yours. But I suppose if I did that, your friend the Guide would just show up eh? Might as well do my job. Let's see here… Rash. Very rash, but calculated. Plenty of intelligence here, though I doubt as much as Sam. Wonderful resolve to do whatever it takes to do the right thing. Occasionally skewed sense of right and wrong, but you try to do the best by your friends. My, my, my. So many conflictions rattling around in here. Where to put you, Dean Winchester, where to put you…"


	8. Sorted

"My, my, my Dean Winchester you are quite the pickle," the Sorting Hat told him. "I can think of ways you would do well in every House. Your resolve to get things done at any cost, oh the Slytherin House would be a very nice fit for that. But you are fiercely loyal as well, strikingly so. Hufflepuff values that above all, which would make you a lovely addition there as well. You aren't dim either, not at all. Quite the mind you have on you I see. Ravenclaw would love to have that."

"So why not just throw me into one of them?" Dean asked, terribly uncomfortable with the idea of anyone being able to fully see into his hat. Even if it was a hat. "Does it matter?"

"Oh, yes, very much so," the Hat laughed. "More than you or I realize, I am sure."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, it occurs to me that your friend the Guide may very well have more in store for you here than immediately meets the eye," the Hat made a throat-clearing sound, which was odd coming from something with no throat. "Mr. Winchester, I think that this world may very well be good for you. In my opinion, there is really only one House that truly suits someone as courageous as you."

An expectant hush had fallen over the Hall and the hat spoke up, "Yes, yes, I have the perfect House for you. GRYFFINDOR!"

A roar went up from the center-right table, the students there clapping enthusiastically. The Sorting Hat was plucked off of Dean's head and Professor McGonnogal gestured for him to take a seat at the Gryffindor table. One of the students, Dean recognized him as the one who had accosted him earlier about Quidditch, had stood up and was beckoning to him with a positively manic expression. The second that Dean sat down beside Oliver, the older Gryffindor leaned in and began to whisper to him in very rapid tones.

"Sam Winchester!" McGonnogal called.  
"Guess I'm up," the younger Winchester said, striding forward.

"Aah, the other Winchester." The Hat said, almost as though savoring the words. "I had made a few guesses about what your mind would be like from what I saw from Dean, but I wasn't as close as I had imagined."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked in a low voice so that no one could hear their conversation.

"Well, your brother is fairly straight forward. Protect his family, kill monsters, enjoy the little things," the Hat paused and then thought better of his statement. "You know, that does not do his mind justice. For time's sake let's just say that his mind focuses on different issues than yours does. At least some to a different degree at any rate. But, moving on from him. This is about _you._ "

"Just put me in Gryffindor with Dean," Sam said. "You can see how well we work together."

"Mm, yes. Yes, I can." It said, mulling over the idea. "But at the same time, I have to wonder what would be achieved when you two are working against one another? Especially when it's pride, not death, on the line. Yes, yes, I quite like that idea."

"Wait, what are you-?" Sam began to ask, almost rising off of the stool.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat roared, drawing a distinctly feminine groan from three of the tables and a roar of approval from the students garbed in green and silver. Sam groaned internally, but nonetheless got up and made his way over to the table that McGonnogal pointed out. A blonde haired student moved over for him to sit down and patted him on the back in welcome, a triumphantly wicked gleam in his eye.

"Castiel Novak!" McGonnogal called, startling the angel. When Castiel hesitated she rolled her eyes and beckoned him in an annoyed fashion. "Come on, quickly!"

"Think she's calling you, Feathers," Crowley said loftily, placing one hand on Cas's back and pushing him with a bit more force than necessary.

Casting a glare at Crowley, he warily ascended the steps and took a seat on the stool much like Sam and Dean had done moments before. The hat descended onto his head and Castiel was treated to the Sorting Hat's voice. "Aah, the angel." The hat was quiet for a long moment as it looked into Castiel's thoughts. "You have… quite the difficult mind." The hat fell silent again for a few minutes. "There is very little human about your mind, but there is some. Dare I say it, the Winchesters have rubbed off on you. Your mind is too foreign for Ravenclaw, you clearly aren't Slytherin material, and you are a bit too reserved for Gryffindor. _But_ you have the patience of an immortal and your dedication and loyalty to the Winchesters means…"

"Mean what?" Castiel asked, unnerved by having something look into his thoughts. It was, usually, the other way around for him.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat roared, drawing yet another roar from the Hall.

Castiel was quickly shuffled off by McGonnogal, evidently annoyed at how long it had taken the hat to sort the angel. The Hufflepuff students, all of them beaming, happily looking at their new arrival. "Hello," Castiel said uncertainly as they all began to clamor over one another's voice in order to introduce themselves. "It is good to meet all of you."

"Well, isn't that sweet?" Crowley asked in a quiet mocking voice, sauntering up to the stool and taking a seat. When McGonnogal placed the hat after calling 'Crowley MacLeod', he glanced up as the hat as he began to speak. "And finally we have the demon," it said in an annoying tone. "How interesting. I have been wondering about something since seeing the minds of the other three."

"And, pray tell, what is that?" Crowley asked, yawning. "I'm riveted by what you have to say."

"Whether or not you actually think of them as friends," the Hat answered with a quiet chuckle. "Interesting answer, I wonder if they are aware of how you perceive them."

"I'm not sure what you think you see in my head, but it is a twisted place. You probably have something backward." Crowley said simply. "Shall we get on with this Sorting then? I'd like to be out of the public eye as quickly as possible."

"Tactical, and adaptable to any situation," it murmured, almost to itself. "Eager to seize and opportunity before you, and make your own when you aren't presented with one."

"Please, you are making me blush," Crowley mocked. "Going to start complimenting my rosy complexion next?"

"You would do well in Slytherin, but I don't think that is where your talents would be best put to use," a quiet laugh echoed from the hat once more. "Yes, yes I think I know just the place for someone with your sort of brain."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat roared.

Crowley got regally up from the stool as though it was his throne and not some petty chair. He rolled his eyes and smirked coldly at the joyous expressions of those at the Ravenclaw table but he went to join them nonetheless, pushing a student over with a look and taking the now vacant seat.

The rest of the sorting Ceremony followed after that with McGonnogall reading off the list and calling first years up to be sorted. Their expressions all began as nervous but turned to relief once the hat had called out their new House. At the Gryffindor table, Dean was being forcibly engaged in conversation by Oliver Wood and the Weasley twins. "Mate, you have to practice with us soon," Fred said eagerly, an odd statement as he generally avoided practicing for _anything_ except for mischief-making.

"With you teaching us, we can really knock those other teams for a loop," George agreed, a nefarious light dancing in his eyes. "I _still_ have a newspaper clipping from that time you hit the Bludger from one side of the pitch to the other and knocked out the other team's keeper. That was seriously wicked."

"Well, you know how it goes," Dean said, still wondering what in the Hell this Quidditch game was. "Hit them hard enough and they won't get back up."

This seemed to have an odd effect on the three as a wicked and twisted smile began to spread across their faces. "Professor, I don't usually like teachers, but I think we will make an exception for you."

"That's right you will," Oliver told them forcibly. "When you are in his class you will mind the straight and narrow. No pranks, no _anything,_ or I will start holding three-a-day practices."

"You wouldn't," George said, horror written all over his face. "That's cruel, even for you, and you are a psychopath when it comes to Quidditch."

"It's my last year," Oliver told them. "We are winning the cup, or I will make sure we die trying."

"Yeah, that's the right attitude to have!" Dean said, smiling at the enthusiasm.

At the Slytherin table, Sam found himself actually enjoying himself much to his surprise. From his knowledge of the books, he knew Slytherins to be much the villainous character. But, then again, the books were written through the eyes of a Gryffindor which would explain the animosity. "So your parents run an apothecary?" Sam asked a dark haired girl who was looking at him with longing eyes. He waited for a response before waving his hand in front of her face to get her attention. "Hey, you still with me?"

"I have your poster on my bedroom wall," she sighed, not even disguising her interest.

Sam sat back slightly, glanced away, back to her, and then away once more. "So, what about you?"

"Me mum works at St. Mungo's," the Slytherin, a freshly sorted first year, said with a nervous tremor in his voice. "Me da works in the Ministry in the Magical Law Enforcement Department."

"Sounds like you have some very interesting family members," Sam smiled.

"Professor," a blonde-haired Slytherin that was all-too familiar began. "Is it true what they say about you?"

"I'm beginning to see that people say a lot about my brother and me," Sam answered truthfully.

"Is it true that you've killed four Dark Wizards at once in a duel?" Malfoy asked eagerly, Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him looking just as intrigued by the story. "And didn't get a scratch on you?"

Across the Hall, Castiel was watching in interest as a small chess piece was smashed to bits by another one. "This is very interesting," he said, reaching for a pawn and subsequently getting slashed by the pawn's tiny sword as a result. He quickly retracted his hand and frowned at the chess piece. "Wizard's chess, you say?"

"Do you not have Wizard's chess in America, Professor?" A student asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"I am sure that we do, but I spend my time doing other things than playing idle games," Castiel told them.

"Like negotiating treaties with Muggles?" a student asked. "My cousin lives in America, her mom and dad couldn't stop talking about it for weeks to my parents. How did you do it?"

Castiel thought on this question for a few moments before something Dean once told him swam to the forefront of his mind. "People are a lot happier when they are drunk," Castiel told them, mimicking the wise look and wink that Dean had given him when he had delivered the same line.

The Hufflepuffs seemed even more intrigued by this and began to ask even more questions.

At the last table, Crowley found himself drawn into conversation with the students and he wasn't sure how they had done it. Clever little bastards. "No, if you wait too long to collect on a deal you risk losing the agreed upon price to begin with." He argued, narrowing his eyes at the student.

" _But_ if you give them more time you might be able to collect more from them," the girl shot back. "Investment versus return time versus total return is just good business knowledge."

"It's all well and good, in theory, but in the real world people aren't as kind as they are in your head," Crowley told her simply.

"That's why you have people who are even meaner than the people you do deals with to back you up." She grinned.

That left Crowley at a loss, impressed against his will. "Not bad." He admitted to her. "You might have potential."

 **Well readers, from the entries I have seen there are two possible crossovers I could write next. Mortal Instruments or The Avengers universe. So, I have decided to write them both. To those of you wishing for an anime crossover, I have something in the works but I need to read up on the manga in question. Thank you, as always, for reading.**

 **Cheers, Hallowed**


	9. Notice

Just an update readers, the next chapter will be out within the next two days. In the meantime, I have just published the new SPN crossover. The Mortal Instruments world awaits. Monsters and Hunters is the name of the new crossover. I do hope you will enjoy it. I hope this finds you well.

Cheers, Hallowed


	10. Lesson Plans

"Well, that could have been a lot worse," Sam said fairly. The Sorting Ceremony banquet had concluded and the students had been ushered back to their dormitories by their respective prefects. "Nothing tried to kill us so far."

"If that's the basis for what you consider success, it's no wonder that you have so many losses," Crowley said. "Be that as it may, it appears that you may have something. If tonight was anything at all to base our lives here off of, they will be terribly boring."

"Well, Crowley, boring isn't always a bad thing," Dean reminded him, lounging on the couch. They had been instructed as to where their rooms and offices were and had all made their way to Crowley's room to discuss the events of the evening. "Besides, maybe a break won't be a bad thing."

"I am inclined to agree with Dean," Castiel offered. "At the very least, it gives us time to recuperate ourselves and if the Guide is to be believed, we will be losing no time in our absence. Lucifer's child will not grow any older."

"Which is all well and good but sitting on my thumbs has never been a strong suit of mine," the Demon said. He reached inside his pocket for his flash and took a draught. He coughed once and frowned at the liquid inside the metal container. "The bloody hell happened to my scotch?"

"What, not perfect enough for you?" Dean smirked, reaching for the flash and taking a swig. He blinked several times in surprise and shook his head. "Wow. Yeah, that's weird."

The liquor made its way around the room with each of the occupants taking a draught and responding like Crowley had. "Yeah, that's strong." Sam said. "Must be firewhisky."

"Must be what now?" Dean asked, taking another swig from the flask.

"It's magic booze," Sam explained.

"Magical alcohol?" Dean chuckled once and handed the flask to Crowley who took a swig as well. "Well, maybe this place isn't so bad after all."

Crowley opened his mouth to say something when a knock at the door cut him off. Remus's head poked in and he smiled at the small group. "My apologies, am I interrupting something?"

"Nah, just enjoying a drink with friends," Dean said. "Care for a swig?"

Lupin looked at the flask for a moment and then gave a rueful smile. "Perhaps another time, I would prefer to be ready for tomorrow. Speaking of which, Sam, would it be possible to speak with you? I'd like to have an idea of where we each stand as far as lesson plans to avoid any potential overlaps."

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Sam said, rising to his feet. The two departed a few moments later and Dean chuckled mildly, stealing Crowley's liquor again.

"I don't know what you are laughing about," Crowley said loftily. "If memory serves _you_ have to teach the little buggers yourself."

"I wouldn't worry about me Crowley," Dean said easily. "I'm Magical Creatures Care or something like that. I'll just, I don't know, find a unicorn or something. What are you gonna do? You've gotta kiss all the boo boos of the kids."

" _I_ will be fine," Crowley looked at his fingernails in a supremely unconcerned fashion. "Mate, I've been torturing and tormenting souls in Hell before top hats were fashionable. Do you think I just tortured them until they died and that was the end? Of course not. Torture them until they are almost gone and then heal them up so I can start all over again."

"Crowley is not wrong," Castiel agreed. "Torture and healing are two sides of the same coin. During the plagues-."

"Yeah, I get it," Dean sighed. "What about you Cas? According to Sam all you have to do is teach them about normal humans and what they do."

"Yes, I have been thinking on that extensively," Castiel nodded. "I thought that I would first go over what makes a normal human, normal. Survival, hedonism-."

"Whoa, back up there," Dean said. "Hedonism? Dude they're kids."

"Personally I think it's a lovely idea," Crowley said, smiling slightly in amusement. "Really an eye opener for them, I'm sure."

"Cas, just teach them about cars or something like that I don't know." Dean said. There was another knock at the door, this one rattling the hinges. The door opened and the massive figure of Hagrid was in the opening, stooped down so he could look through. "Hey there Hagrid. Care for a drink?"

"Migh' take you up on tha' later," the giant man said. "But I thought you migh' like to see some of the creatures I've got set up for this year. And yours are waitin' for ye. Thought you would come get them after dinner, but I'm not complaining."

"Mine?" Dean asked, curiously. "Yeah, let's see what you got."

Dean and Hagrid left the former angel and demon to their devices. Dean followed him out of the castle and to a little hut that bordered what appeared to be a forest full of huge trees. "Nice place you got here," Dean said as he ascended the steps. "Next to the woods too, should make your job easier right?"

"Oh, yeah." Hagrid nodded. "Bit annoyin' at times too. Unicorns and such come and eat my garden and you can't run them off or they hold a grudge which makes findin' them later a bit tricky."

"Yeah, totally," Dean agreed as he stepped inside. A massive bloodhound lay curled by the fire, lifting his head up when Dean stepped through the door before laying back down. "Nice dog."

"Name's Fang," Hagrid told him. "Ruddy coward that one, can' even stand to be around pixie without whinin'."

"Yeah, well, pixies can be pretty mean." Dean said darkly, thinking back to when he had been abducted by fairies.

"Now, where did she go…" Hagrid said, lifting up his massive bed with one hand and looking under it. "Sorry 'bout this, she was just here before I came to get you."

"She?" Dean asked. He was answered a moment later when something long and scaly fell onto his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. Acting completely on instinct he pushed off whatever had landed on him and backed up several feet, reaching for his nonexistent gun. "The hell?"

"You alrigh' professor?" Hagrid asked, reaching down and picking up the thing that Dean had thought was attacking him. Now, slightly calmed, Dean saw that Hagrid was holding a large snake about twelve feet long. "Gotta be careful with a basilisk you know, their scales are righ' delicate."

"Yeah, sorry," Dean said. The snake slipped out of Hagrid's hands and slithered across the floor to where Dean stood and began to wrap up his leg. "Uh, the hell?"

"Oh, look at tha'," Hagrid said, slight envy in his voice. "She misses her daddy! It's been fun havin' her here professor. I've always wanted a basilisk, but Professor Dumbledore put his foot down. Said I could have a dragon, but a basilisk was too dangerous."

The serpent had made its way up Dean's leg and was now looping its large body around Dean's neck like a scaly scarf. Uncertain of how to react to this, Dean allowed the snake to do as such lest he do something that would make Hagrid question his credentials. "Yeah, they are a bit temperamental," Dean said. "Gotta show em whose boss."

"I know jus' what you mean," Hagrid nodded. "Though' I would show you an old friend o' mine named Aragog."

"Yeah, sure, sounds like fun," Dean said, wondering who this Aragog was. He had met most of the professors at the feast, most of them were easy enough to remember. He definitely did not meet an Aragog. "Where's he at?"

"He lives in the Forbidden Forest with his family," Hagrid said, grabbing a crossbow from where it had been lying next to the door. Dean looked wistfully at the weapon and then beamed when Hagrid produced a slightly smaller one from under his bed. "You migh' wanna leave the basilisk here, they give em a bit of a fright."

"Yeah, no problem," Dean said, uncoiling the serpent from around his neck and laying it on the bed. The basilisk hissed at him in annoyance before it slinked across the floor and curled up next to Fang. "Thought you said your dog was a scaredy cat?"

"He is, probably too afraid to move righ' now," Hagrid said, unconcerned. He stepped outside and held the door open for Dean to follow.


	11. Poltergeist

"Well, Sam, it was certainly good to hear your thoughts on the lesson plans for the year," Lupin said, smiling as he rolled up a piece of parchment and placed it inside his desk. "I quite like your idea to focus more upon the spells effective against the Dark Arts, especially with me focusing on the creature side of things. Speaking of which, do you think Dean would be able to get me a banshee, perhaps a wendigo?"

Sam blinked in surprise. "You know about Wendigos?" He asked, shocked. He knew for a fact they had never been mentioned once in the books. This was probably yet another twist the Guide had thrown into the world. "Sorry, didn't think they were common around here."

"Oh, they aren't," Lupin assured him. "In fact I haven't ever even heard of one around this area. Near as I can tell they are only found in the United States and occasionally Canada. I only asked because I thought it might be good for them to see something more exotic."

"Wouldn't a phoenix or a griffin be better then?" Sam asked warily. He had seen firsthand, many times, just what a wendigo could do to people. He certainly did not want to see the students placed in any danger, particularly one as violent as a wendigo. "Wendigos are, well, they're not for students."

"I understand your concern," Lupin smiled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on making them battle the creature. I wanted merely to show them that there are some creatures in this world that are purely evil. But if you think it unwise, I suppose you would be the subject matter expert. You know, the rumors of you being a cold-blooded Dark Wizard hunter are quite unfounded."

"I don't pay much attention to rumors," Sam shrugged. "So, that everything you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, I think that wraps things up nicely," Lupin said, rising from his seat and extending his hand to Sam. "Let's have a good year then, shall we?"

"Absolutely," Sam smiled, shaking the proffered hand.

Just as Sam was about to step out, Lupin cleared his throat and called, "Sam, would you mind doing me a favor? My… condition… is known only to a select few. I figured with your and Dean's resumes you would inevitably figure it out so I thought I would save you the trouble but I would prefer if the information was not common knowledge."

"Of course, not a problem. I'll tell Dean when I see him," Sam nodded. He exited the office then, nearly crashing into Dean who was looking remarkably pale. For a moment Sam thought that he had a scarf around his neck. That is, of course, until the scarf hissed at him irritably. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Don't _ever_ go too deep into the Forbidden Forest," Dean told him, giving a shudder of disgust. "They have spiders the size of freakin' houses and that giant dude, Hagrid? He calls them _pets_!"

Apparently Dean's loud voice could be heard inside Lupin's office as the professor opened the door and poked his head out. He smiled when he saw Dean and then a curious look fell over his face when he spied the serpent around the Winchester's neck. "Aah! I had heard you had managed to domesticate a basilisk but I thought they were just rumors! May I see her?"

"Uh, yeah, sure if she will let you," Dean said, uncoiling the serpent from around his neck and handing her to Lupin. The snake hissed in annoyance but tolerated Lupin's inspection for a few moments before writhing free and slithering back onto Dean's shoulders.

"Remarkable creature," Lupin breathed, stroking her scales with interest. "I don't suppose you would be interested in a joint class at one point? She would be a brilliant lesson topic. What's her name?"

"Lucy," Dean said, puffing out his chest in pride.

"Lucy?" Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow. He had expected something much more dramatic from Dean. "Why Lucy?"

"Her full name is Lucy-fer," the elder Winchester smiled, clearly pleased with himself.

"Interesting name choice." Lupin admitted, still fixated on the serpent.

While Lupin was preoccupied with the basilisk Sam sent his brother a 'really-dude?' look. Dean frowned at him and said, "Don't judge me, it's a great name."

Apparently thinking that this was directed at him, Lupin smiled fondly. "Oh, my apologies, I was not critiquing your choice of name. I think it suits her well, I am sure."

"See, Sam?" Dean said pointedly, "Remus has the right idea here, Lucy is a great name."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said with a snort of derision. "Whatever you say Dean."

"Well, I am going to get some sleep," Remus said, stifling a yawn. "I suggest you two do the same, we have a busy day tomorrow."

"Hey, is there some place I can grab a shower around here?" Dean asked quickly.

"Oh, yes of course," Remus said, pointing down the hall. "Down the hallway to the right, the painting beside your rooms of the knight cutting an apple. The password is _'Water Color'_."

"Thanks," Dean said, heading down the indicated direction with a wave of goodbye. Sam followed after him a few moments later. "So, get everything done with Remus?"

"Yeah, got everything figured out I guess," Sam sighed. "I have a lot of research to do."

"Yeah, so do I," Dean agreed. "Hagrid wants to show these kids all kinds of dangerous stuff, dude even asked if I could find him a guy who could sell him a lamia. I mean, come on, those things are dangerous."

"Yeah, no kidding," Sam agreed. "Remus asked me if you could get him a wendigo for a lesson."

"A lesson?!" Dean asked incredulously. "What's the lesson going to be, how to not die when being chased by a freakin' monster?"

"Keep your voice down, Dean." Sam said as they rounded the corner. "The last thing we want is to wake someone up."

"Yes, yes, ittle professors," a sing-song voice said from behind them. The brothers turned around as one and saw a fellow wearing an outlandish outfit and a hat with bells on it floating several feet in the air. "Don't want to wake up the students do we? Might be quite a shame if they was to get no sleep the day before their first day back."

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, frowning at the poltergeist.

"Peeves the Poltergeist at your service," the ghost said, swooping forward and giving a mocking bow. "Or, at your _disservice._ " The ghost cackled and floated back up, looking at the brothers through his legs.

"Peeves is the one who causes a lot of trouble for the students and teachers," Sam explained under his breath. "He says they are pranks, but they get the kids hurt a lot too."

"Hey, douchebag, why don't you just leave the kids alone?" Dean snarled at the ghost, "Why don't you go haunt a cemetery or something?"

"Oh, I don't think I like you very much professor," the ghost cackled. "Maybe I will take that little bitty snaky and put it on top of a tower? Might be lots of fun, that."

Apparently intending to do just that the poltergeist swooped forward to grab the snake. Dean backed up a step but the measure proved to be unnecessary. Just as Peeves was about to grab Lucy the snake's head whipped around and Peeves stopped dead in his tracks. Evidently frozen, the poltergeist floated up slightly in the air in the same position he had been in when the snake moved. Lucy hissed once more before returning to being coiled around Dean's neck. "Huh," Sam said, impressed. "That's handy."

"So what the hell just happened?" Dean asked, looking down warily at the basilisk.

"Lucy petrified him," Sam explained. "Basically froze him I guess."

"See?" Dean said, raising his chin slightly with a smirk. "She's awesome."

Sam rolled his eyes and the boys went along their way, leaving the poltergeist to float harmlessly in the air.


	12. First Day

Sam walked into the faculty bathroom and stopped short when he saw Dean slumped over the side of the massive bath pool with his face resting on the stone and the rest of his body submerged in multicolored water. "Dean!" Sam shouted, preparing to dive into the water to save his brother.

Evidently such an action was not necessary however. "I'm up!" Dean slurred, sitting up in the bath. "Oh, man, don't shout it's too early. You might scare Lucy."

Sam looked down and, sure enough, the basilisk was swimming lazily through the water apparently quite happy. "Are you sure it's a good idea for her to be in the water?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, basilisks are primarily water serpents. If their scales don't get wet every so often they can get really dry and start cracking or falling off." Dean said, splashing water on his face. "So I figured I would bring her in here."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become an expert on basilisks?"

"Since last night," Dean said tiredly. "Figured I would need to know at least something about my job here, so I stayed up all night reading up on magical creatures. Tell you what man that library has some really weird books. Pulled one of them out and it tried to eat my hand."

"It _is_ a magical school," Sam reminded him. "Did you find your class schedule?"

"Yeah, I did," Dean nodded, "Any idea what you are going to do?"

"Well, unlike you I have it kind of easy," Sam shrugged. "Teach them a few defensive spells maybe."

"Can you actually _do_ the spells?" Dean asked cryptically, pulling himself out of the bath.

"Dude," Sam said, shielding his eyes with his hand to avoid his brother's naked form. "Put some clothes on."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled as he wrapped himself in a towel. "But seriously dude, you should actually make sure you can do the magic before you walk into class. I'm about to head out and try to figure out something for my lesson."

"Yeah, I read up on some spells last night too," Sam nodded. "Since it's the first day I'll start easy and work my way up from there."

"Sounds good," Dean nodded. "Don't suppose you know where I can find some hay around here?"

"Hay?" Sam asked, frowning. "No. What for?"

Dean shook his head. "Never mind. Come on Lucy, time to go."

With a look of surprise and incredulity Sam watched as the basilisk slithered its way out of the pool and up to Dean where it climbed the man and wrapped herself around his shoulders. "Dude, that's actually kind of cool."

"Yeah, she's awesome isn't she?" Dean asked, stroking the serpent fondly. "Wish I could bring her to class but the Dumbledore guy sent me an owl with a note this morning telling me not to. Dude I've seen passive-aggressive post-it notes but using an owl is taking it to a whole different level."

"Actually they use owls as the primary way of them sending mail," Sam explained. "I have an hour to kill before my first class, I'm going to grab a shower before I go."

"Good luck, we can meet up later and see how things went with each other," Dean told him, turning to leave.

Sam waited for a beat, expecting something else to be said and shook his head when there was nothing. "That's it? No talking about how to get out of here, get back to our world?"

"Why would I?" Dean asked, shrugging. "Look man, as far as I can tell this Guide or whatever doesn't seem evil. And even if we did manage to get back, she even said she would just yank us right back. So why bother trying to screw this up? It's not like this is Gabriel being a dick or some djinn trying to eat our souls or whatever. So, no, I'm not gonna try to get out of here."

Sam raised his hands as though to ward off a blow. "Easy man, I wasn't judging. I was just asking. I totally agree with you."

Dean nodded, satisfied. "Alright, well I'm gonna go drop off Lucy and then head into the Forbidden Forest. Only about half an hour before class starts, I gotta go find them."

Leaving Sam to wonder just what it was that he had in mind, Dean made his way to his room and quickly changed into jeans and a flannel. He briefly thought about putting on a set of black robes but dismissed the idea. Wizarding world or not, he liked his flannels. He very carefully placed Lucy onto his bed and stroked her scales fondly. The owl Dumbledore had sent him had not yet left his room and was sleeping with its head tucked under its wing on top of Dean's desk. "Alright, I need to go to class," Dean told the basilisk. "You stay here and don't cause any trouble."

The serpent hissed in response as Dean left. Before stepping outside he paused and poked his head back in. "And don't eat the owl."

In a separate room, his signature trench coat lying on the bed in front of him, Castiel prepared for his own first day. Evidently the Guide had taken it upon herself to help prepare him for his first day as best she could. A massive assortment of books, objects, and other oddities that Castiel had seen around the bunker and in stores were strewn about his room. Like Dean he had spent a better part of the night preparing himself for his first day of classes. He had a good idea about what he was going to do for a first lesson, but putting it into action would be rather trying. He had tried to put on his trench coat several times now and each time that he was about to walk out the door it disappeared right off his back only to appear back on the bed. "I don't understand this place's magic," Castiel said, frustrated. Little did he know, during the night, Dean had snuck into his room to practice magic. Specifically a hex. The original hex had been intended to turn the coat invisible when worn but had unfortunately taken a turn. It should be noted here that Dean performed the spell correctly his wand simply decided it had a better idea. Eventually the former angel gave up and left the coat on the bed, electing to instead wear the black robes preferred by the people of this world.

A knock came at his door and a kindly looking older woman stepped inside, smiling apologetically. "Sorry about just barging in like this, didn't mean to interrupt you," she said, closing the door behind her. She looked around the room, impressed, and nodded. "Lovely little collection you have here. I don't suppose you have a spare deck of cards do you? The muggle variety, I have my own Exploding Snap set. I've been dying to get my hands on one for ages but people keep on offering me incomplete sets."

"I don't know," Castiel said honestly. "I am not sure of what I have in these boxes. There may very well be something dangerous in them, I have not yet looked."

"Dangerous?" the woman laughed. She paused when she saw how serious Castiel was and then lowered her voice. "Like what?"

"There are these little devices that muggles put in their ears that transmit music. If you play them too loud or are unaware of the volume when they begin to play you could cause yourself hearing damage and a very bad headache." Castiel told her gravely. "Hum-… Muggles are quite reckless when it comes to their health."

"Oh I quite agree," the woman said. "Some of the games they get up to are quite dangerous, especially when they don't have magic! I mean, can you imagine letting yourself be stranded in the middle of nowhere without a wand?"

Yes. Yes he could. However he understood that answering 'yes' to such a question was likely to cause the Guide to intervene as it would undoubtedly trigger a long string of questions. Better for a quick change of subject, much like Sam or Dean would do. "Who the hell are you?" Nailed it.

The woman appeared very taken aback by what he considered a very reasonable question and tone. "Oh, erm, forgive me. My name is Charity Burbage, I am also a Muggle Studies professor here, I thought that-."

Continuing his emulation of Dean and Sam, Castiel cut her off. "What are you doing in my room?"

"S-sorry, I should have sent an owl, I didn't mean to intrude please forgive me," she said, hurrying out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Uncertain of why she chose to leave so quickly and in such a manner, Castiel made a mental note to speak to Dean or Sam about the exchange in the unlikely event he had done something wrong. He turned back to one of the boxes with the intent to begin searching through it to determine the contents. He had just leaned over when the door opened again.

"Making friends already I see," Crowley said loftily, already clothed in his signature jacket. "That woman was nearly in tears, what _did_ you say to her? I must say I am impressed."

"Reducing her to crying was not my intention, I simply inquired as to why she was in my room," Castiel frowned. "Perhaps I should seek her out and clarify myself."

"Don't bother," Crowley advised, pulling his flask from within the folds of his coat and taking a drink. He made a disgusted face and spit out the contents onto Castiel's floor. "Oh, that is not at all acceptable."

"Did you really have to spit that all over my floor?" Castiel asked, annoyed. He glanced around for his wand and grabbed it from where it lied on his bed. He had seen one of the other teachers spill wine during the feast the night prior and wave their wand to clean it up. Attempting to copy the action, he gave his wand a wave.

The resulting explosion was heard throughout the hallway.


	13. Lesson Prep

"So, you mean to tell me that you somehow managed to transform your feet into actual cement bricks?" Crowley asked slowly, his hands in the pockets of his coat. "How… exactly… did you manage that?"

"Ask him how he did this _after_ you transfigure him back, dearie." Madam Pomfrey told him as she wandered by with a blanket and a bucket of water for a girl who had somehow managed to have goldfish continually coming out of her ear. "And once you are done that could you go clean Creevey's bed pan? It's full of mud."

Crowley's eyes narrowed dangerously as she hurried on her way. His finger tapped a rhythm out on his wand in his pocket as he considered the pros and cons of slaughtering everyone in the hospital wing. The first day of term had only just begun and he had already seen and treated more than a dozen of the little brats. After the first of them had come to the Hospital Wing with branches growing from his ears Crowley had made it his personal mission to figure out some way out of there. Unfortunately for his escape Madam Pomfrey was inexplicably adept at showing up the moment that he was about to flee and give him a new task. The only good thing about his position was that he seemed to be rather good at controlling the magic of this universe. Granted, he did have prior experience as he had been a demon in his universe. "Hello Crowley," a gravelly voice from behind him said.

"Castiel," Crowley said in greeting, turning to meet the former angel and smirking. "I see you have embraced the local look in exchange for that old trench coat."

"Yes, well, I thought it might make the children much more open to me teaching them." Castiel explained, glancing down at his black robes. "I see that you have not and instead have chosen to keep your suit."

"Mister Crowley," the boy with the bricks for feet said, his voice a whine. "I don't want to be late for Professor Snape's lesson on the first day, he might give me my detention."

"Please, by all means, you are free to go," Crowley said, looking back at the student with a look of disdain and rolling his eyes. "Be sure to avoid deep bodies of water, unless of course you wish to try and transfigure yourself into a fish."

Evidently taking this suggestion as chastisement instead of the very real advice it was, the boy fell silent. "I so do miss the days I could snap my fingers and break his neck," Crowley said with a small sigh.

The boy on the bed made an audible gasp and Castiel quickly interjected, "He's joking, of course. He doesn't want to break your neck."

Castiel grabbed Crowley by the arm and dragged him away from the prying ears of the students in the hospital wing. "Have you lost your mind?" He demanded once they were well out of anyone's earshot. "Threatening these children?"

"Calm down Feathers," Crowley said, brushing his sleeve where Castiel had touched it. "I've mended and healed quite a few of the little brats today, I believe a bit of wistful thinking has been more than earned. Speaking of which, I am clearly doing my job. Unwillingly, it is true. But nonetheless I am. Shouldn't you be teaching some class about normal people?"

"My classroom is on the fifth floor, however the staircases seem to have a mind of their own." Castiel explained. "I have been attempting to reach my classroom for several hours now. I was hoping to find Sam or Dean and ask for their assistance. Have you seen them?"

"The last I saw of Dean he was carrying what looked suspiciously like a bale of hay over his shoulder," Crowley said. "I have not seen Moose since yesterday."

Crowley had indeed seen Dean carrying a bale of hay. It had taken some time to find but eventually he had come across a room that was filled with bales of hay. What a school was doing with such a room he had no clue, but it served his purpose and he took a bale with him. He had planned out this lesson in his mind to the letter, however finding the creature he had in mind was not going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination. From everything they had read they were much more comfortable around females than males, and were attracted to people with pure hearts. He fit neither of these categories. He set the bale of hay down by the edge of the Forbidden Forest and jogged over to Hagrid's cabin, pausing momentarily to marvel at the creature's that had been grouped outside of the cabin. They looked like someone had crossed a horse with birds. "Hippogriffs?" Dean wondered aloud, thinking back to the reading he had done the night prior.

"Tha's right!" Hagrid said, the door to his cabin swinging open. "They're righ' clever beasts and I've been with this herd for years."

"Aren't they supposed to be really dangerous and prideful creatures?" Dean asked, warily approaching the hippogriff on the most outermost part of the herd. It was a beautiful creature with a golden eagle's head and a palomino's body. The hippogriff turned to face them and made several noises of curiosity as Dean approached it. The Winchester bowed low as the books he had read told him to and the hippogriff almost immediately copied the action. Dean then moved closer and began to warily stroke the beast's feathers. "Ah, maybe they aren't so bad."

"Name's Tempest," Hagrid said fondly. "You have a good eye, she's one of my favorites. Righ' sweetheart that one, but she's a bi' picky. Doesn't bow to hardly anyone."

"Guess I'm just lucky then, isn't that right pretty girl?" Dean crooned in the voice he ordinarily reserved for the impala. "Actually wanted to talk to you Hagrid, I had an idea for my lesson today but I wanted to see if you could give me a hand with it."

"I don' have any classes for a bit, what did you have in mind?" Hagrid asked curiously, glancing to where Dean had left the hay bale.

Sam took a deep breath as students began to walk into his classroom, leaning on the desk and crossing his arms. He had decided that his first day would be a rather easy one, especially since he was not entirely sure how much would be 'too much'. "Please take your seats," He called once the majority of the students were in the room. His first class was made up of seventh year students and as such he knew from the books that they would be preparing for their N.E.W.T tests. He would need to make sure that they were adequately ready to tackle them and, hopefully, do well. He had not even taken a breath to speak when he saw a hand in the air. "Yes?" He asked, slowly.

"Professor, on our book lists it said that you hadn't assigned any." The student said. "Was that some sort of mix up, or did you really intend on not using any books?"

Sam internally cursed the Guide but retained an outwardly composed look. "That's right," he said. "I understand that this year you will be taking the N.E.W.T tests. As such, I thought it would be best for you to learn things much more hands on. Judging on what I know about Gilderoy Lockhart he was much more interested in stroking his own ego than actually teaching. To be honest it seems to me like you have to learn two years' worth of magic in one. So we better get started. For a start, how many of you can cast a Patronus Charm?"

Not a single hand went up and Sam breathed a small sigh of relief. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could do this after all. "Okay, move the desks to the side of the classroom," Sam said, smiling at them. When they began to do just that an idea seized him and he smiled even further. "Using magic, only." He added.


	14. Story

Dean was leaning casually on a fence when he saw the first students for his class begin to funnel out of the castle and down towards where he was standing. Setting up this lesson had been a bit more difficult than he had expected, the subject of today's lesson was much harder to find than he had expected it would be in this world. On the other hand he had inadvertently come across quite a few other potential lesson subjects when he had been traipsing around the Forbidden Forest. "Morning, Professor!" Oliver Wood said eagerly, thrusting his hand out and shaking Dean's a bit manically. "I'm assuming that the Weasley twins haven't been causing you trouble?"

"Uh, you guys are my first class." Dean said, extracting his hand from Oliver's death grip. "Kinda hard to cause trouble when I haven't seen them yet."

"You clearly don't know them very well," Oliver said darkly. Dean made a mental note to keep an even closer eye on those two.

Dean stepped away from Oliver and clapped his hands together loudly. "Alright, can everyone hear me?" He said loudly. He waited for a general chorus of assent from the students and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Alright, everyone follow me into the Forest."

"The Forest?" One of the Ravenclaw students asked incredulously. "It's dangerous in there!"

"Mate, that's bloody _Dean Winchester_!" Another student, a Hufflepuff this time, sniggered. "I think he can keep us safe."

"He's not wrong," Dean said in his best teacher-voice, "Besides, we aren't going to go too far. They just don't like to be caught in the open, makes em nervous."

"What, exactly, are 'they'?" A Slytherin asked warily, eyes narrowed.

"If you guys shut up and follow me you will see, won't you?" Dean asked, his patience running thin. He hopped the fence and motioned for the students to follow suit. Granted, it was easier for him as he was in his customary flannel and jeans. Robes seemed to make the leap a bit more difficult as several stumbled and fell. He made a mental note to have them meet by the entrance of the fence next time.

True to his word he did not bring them too deep into the Forbidden Forest, stopping after only about a hundred yards. He had led them to a beautiful clearing of green grass and a small pond in the center. "Now, be careful when you approach them," Dean told them in a low voice. "Ladies, you head in first, they seem to prefer females from what I can tell."

The girls followed his instruction, stepping warily into the clearing and making their way to the center. After a few moments a collective, "Ooh!" of delight went up from the girls. Walking into the clearing, was a beautiful pure white horse with a stunning silver horn protruding from its forehead. The unicorn, after hesitating for the briefest of moments, allowed itself to be petted and rubbed by the girls. They all cooed to the horse as the guys looked on wistfully, almost like they were waiting for Dean to give them the go ahead. He motioned for them to wait a few moments, shooting them a reassuring smile. After a minute passed by more unicorns began to enter the clearing, evidently reassured that they were in no danger. Once the unicorns were all grazing peacefully, Dean allowed the male students to begin to filter onto the field. "Be slow, unicorns have an instinctive mistrust of dudes," He cautioned them.

Once he was certain that they weren't going to do something stupid he moved to the edge of the clearing and watched. He had always preferred being hands-on after all, even when he Hunted with Sam. The way he saw it, his lessons should be much the same. First-hand experience was always better than learning from a book. Dean knew from many past experiences that what was written in books could easily be wrong. He felt something nudge his leg and glanced down, expecting to see a bowtruckle hanging from his leg or perhaps a fairy. Instead he was surprised to see a golden-furred unicorn standing about navel-height. The baby unicorn nudged his side again and Dean ran a hand down its mane, smiling at the little one. "Hey there," he said softly, "What are you doing away from your mom?"

"Ooh, Professor!" One of the students, a Ravenclaw, exclaimed in delight. He moved forward towards the professor, one hand extended at the baby. The baby snorted when the student came close and moved to stand behind Dean. The disappointment on the student's face was evident when he saw that he was not going to be able to pet the unicorn foal. "Aww, man."

"Sorry, unicorns are really particular about who they let close," Dean offered. "That one by the pond seemed to be getting along well with you, why don't you go ahead and spend some more time with it?"

"Yes, professor," the Ravenclaw said glumly.

Once he had gone the foal bumped Dean's leg again with its forehead and Dean smiled ruefully. "Say, Professor," Oliver said, striding slowly up to him. Once he was within a few feet he lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulders. "We're having practice tonight, we _really_ need your help if we are going to have a shot at the Cup."

"Sure, I don't mind helping out." Dean smiled at him, not a single clue of what he was getting himself into.

Back in the castle, Castiel was ten minutes late to his class when he finally walked through the door. The students had been congregating around a table, talking about something or other when he arrived. Upon noticing him they quickly took their seats and waited as Castiel made his way to the front of the room. Though he appeared outwardly calm, or at least he hoped he did, Castiel was racking his brains for some sort of lesson plan. Muggle Studies seemed like a massively intricate subject as it dealt with all the peculiarities and habits that normal humans went about.

"Erm, good morning class," Castiel began in uncertain tones. His best idea was one that he could attribute thanks to Sam for. Put simply, it was letting the person he was speaking to direct the conversation without the realizing they were doing so. "As I am unfamiliar with what you have thus far been taught, I thought it best for you to tell me what you wish to cover this year."

This seemed to somewhat surprise the students. "Professor, are you sure?" One asked, uncertainly. "I mean, you _are_ the one who-."

"I am very well aware of what I have done," Cas lied. "But in my experience I have found that hu-… that people learn better when it is relevant to subjects that they are interested in."

To this the students had nothing to say. One tentatively raised her hand and Castiel nodded to her, a feeling of gratefulness washing through him. "Professor, why do muggles dress so differently?"

" _That_ is an excellent question," Castiel said. "You see, Muggles often dress to their occupation. However, there are several occupation which may be something of a misnomer. Strippers, for instance, may often dress in apparel that would be suited for another occupation, such as a firefighter or perhaps a police officer."

"Professor, what's a stripper?" Another student asked, evidently unfamiliar with the term.

"And that should be good enough for class today," Sam said confidently. "Practice your stunning spells as homework for next class and give me a small essay on the concept behind stunning spells to be turned in next class."

The students departed and Sam took a seat at the desk at the front of the class. He left the desks on the outskirts of the room, intending for the next class to be very similar to this one. He was mildly surprised when he saw Lupin enter the classroom. "Remus," Sam said, rising and flicking his wand to summon a chair. "What's up?"

"It is our joint class," Lupin said uncertainly, pulling out a piece of parchment and then nodding as he confirmed the statement. "I assumed that was why you are here, this is the designated classroom after all."

"Of course," Sam said, "Sorry, I had forgotten. Did you still want to have them go over defensive spells?"

"As a first lesson I had thought that such an idea would be appropriate," Remus nodded. A coughing fit racked his body and Sam winced sympathetically once it had ended. "Forgive me, my health is questionable on the best of days."

"Totally understand," Sam nodded. A thought occurred to him and Sam voiced it before he could think the wiser of it. "Has the protection around Harry Potter been increased?"

"Protection around Harry Potter?" Remus asked, one eyebrow raising. "Whatever for?"

"Remus, I am a Dark Wizard catcher," Sam said, allowing his voice to fill with confidence. "It wasn't difficult for me to discover the shared past James Potter and Sirius Black share. The one you share with them, I might add."

This revelation seemed to have an odd effect on Remus, as he went even paler than normal. "H-how did you come across this information?"

"Sorry, my sources prefer to remain anonymous," _Not to mention J.K. Rowling doesn't even exist here._ "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you with any of this. I just want to be sure that all possible defensive measures are in place."

"Sam, the conversation we are about to have, well, I would prefer that it stay between us," Remus said, glancing over his shoulder.

"Anything you say to me will be confidential," Sam assured him.

"Very good. I am going to tell you exactly why Sirius Black was behind bars, the story that very _very_ few people are aware of."


	15. First Day Finished

Finally, the hospital wing was empty of students. Crowley's day had been tiresome at best and absolutely dreadful at worst. He had always known that children lacked the basic common sense that some, but certainly not all, adults had and yet he had to question a few of their situations. However, later in the day he had found himself actually caring about the circumstances surrounding one of the students. The female Ravenclaw he had spoken to at the Sorting Ceremony had come into the hospital wing sporting several nasty burns and cuts from her Care of Magical Creatures class. He had treated her without the normal amount of disdain and cynicism he had been offering to the students. At least, he had until she had made a biting remark as to the nature of her injuries. That led to the two of them having a biting exchange until Crowley had mended her and sent her on her way. "A shame this world doesn't have demons," he said to the Winchesters and Castiel as the four of them gathered in Dean's chambers to discuss the events of the first day. "That one would have a real future collecting souls."

"Yeah, well, let's be happy we don't have to deal with demons here," Dean said. He took a drink from a small metal flask Sam had conjured him and offered it to Crowley who nodded his thanks as he drank. "So other than you recruiting your demon army, anything major come up today? The Guide pop up?"

"Haven't seen her," Crowley said indifferently. "And as for taking care of the little prats, please, magical world or not injuries are injuries. I am an old hand at fixing such things up. Torture and healing go hand in hand, I am sure I've said as much before."

Sam rolled his eyes and glanced to Castiel. "What about you, Cas, anything happen today?"

"Admittedly I had some difficulty reaching my first class as the stairways seem prone to changing their course." Castiel said, "However I made it only a few minutes late. I _was_ a bit unprepared as I was unclear on what was considered a 'normal human' in this world however I determined that den of iniquities were most likely universal to normal humans in any world."

"Whoa, hold up," Sam said raising a hand. "What did you teach them about today?"

"The question they chose to ponder was one of Muggle clothing and their relation to their jobs. Specifically those Muggles whose clothing choices did not often match their occupation."

"Uh-huh…" Sam said slowly, "And, I really hate to ask this, but what did you give them as an example?"

"We discussed the garments that humans whose occupation Dean refers to as strippers and their versatility due to their occupation." Castiel explained simply. "All things considered I believe that today's lessons went rather well as the students seemed rather engaged."

The other three were staring at Castiel with the same incredulous expression, even Crowley. He quickly hid this and exchanged it for a smirk. "Well, at the very least they got a taste of the real world today." He chuckled into the flask as he took another drink and handed it back to Dean.

"Cas, you _can't_ just teach a lesson about strippers!" Dean said. "They're kids, you can't corrupt them that early!"

"I find that odd for you to say," Castiel said, frowning. "Especially as you have repeatedly told me how young you were when you lost what you refer to as 'your cherry'."

"Okay, moving on," Dean said clapping his hands together and pointing to Sam. "How did things go for you?"

"Altogether not bad at all," Sam admitted. "I think I will focus on defensive spells this semester, it will give me something to teach and prepare them for what's coming."

"For what's coming?" Crowley repeated, frowning. "Pray tell, what is coming that they would need to know defensive spells for?"

Sam hesitated as he did not want these three to do anything to mess up the timeline but, at the same time, having them brought into the loop would certainly only help when push came to shove as it certainly would. "In a few years, not any time soon, the Wizarding World gets into a huge battle with Hogwarts as the place where it all goes down. Long story short there's this big bad named Voldemort and all he wants to do is wipe out anyone who doesn't agree with his twisted ideology."

"And you are saying that these kids are going to be a part of that fight?" Dean asked, reaching unconsciously to where his wand was in his pocket. It was amazing how fast he had come to rely on the thin piece of wood and reached for where it was stashed rather than where he would have kept his pistol. "Then we gotta warn someone!"

"That's the thing, _we can't_!" Sam said urgently. "Dumbledore already knows and he is the only one Voldemort fears. He's already doing a lot to stop it and if we try to do something as well chances are we might end up screwing things as likely as we might help them. The best thing we can do is try to help the kids while we are here."

Surprisingly it was Crowley who spoke up. "So, other than the obvious of preparing the brats for a war, what else can we possibly do? In case you haven't noticed, Moose, you are the only one here who knows about what is going on here. I don't read many books, not from this time period at any rate, but unless I miss my guess then this year also has a central plot to things?"

"Yeah, sorta," Sam nodded. "This is the Harry's third year. Basically that guy who escaped prison is Harry's godfather who was wrongfully accused of murdering a bunch of people. That's why there are so many dementors running around the grounds, the Ministry thinks that Sirius Black is coming for Harry to kill him."

"And is he?" Cas asked solemnly.

"No, he's coming to save Harry." Sam said.

An owl flew into Dean's room and caused Lucy to hiss from her place on Dean's bed. Strangely enough there were a few feather by her mouth and Dean sent her a glare as he grabbed the message from the owl's foot. He took the bird to the window and it flew off his hand. He returned to his seat as he read the message and sighed. "Great," he muttered.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked.

"No, I just promised to help that Oliver guy that I would help them practice Quidditch. Whatever the hell that is." He shot Sam a questioning look, but Crowley answered instead.

"Quidditch is a game played where the goal is to get a ball called the Quaffle through one of three hoops at either end of the Quidditch stadium. You have two balls called Bludgers flying around attempting to attack the teams. Since you are masquerading as some sort of important Quidditch player I imagine that is why that broomstick is doing in the corner of your room."

Dean looked to the indicated corner and his eyebrows shot up. "Huh, did not put that there." He said, grabbing it and tossing it over his shoulder. "Well it sounds pretty simple. Guess I better go see what I can do, wing it as best I can."

He left the room after that. "You know, it occurs to me that I neglected to mention to him that you play the game in the air." Crowley said innocently. "Ah, well, I suppose I had better go be ready for something unfortunate at the hospital wing, shall I?"

He left a few moments later, taking Dean's flask as he went, and left Cas and Sam alone in the room.


	16. Quidditch

With the sleek looking broom over his shoulder Dean wandered down to the Quidditch pitch. He still had no idea what Quidditch really was other than what Crowley had told him, but he assumed that figuring it out on the fly couldn't be that difficult. "Not quite," a familiar voice said behind him, giggling.

Dean turned around, suppressing a groan as he recognized the Guide's voice. "What do you want now?" He asked irritably.

"Oh, don't worry, I am here to help you," she scoffed, waving a hand. "First things first, you need to look the part of a Quidditch player. Flannel and jeans are great, but not for flying. Trust me on that."

Dean felt his clothes rustle and when he looked down he saw himself garbed in some sort of leathery outfit. "The hell is this?" he demanded.

"The official Quidditch outfit of the year you played in the Quidditch World Cup," she said happily. "You look very handsome in it by the way."

"Uh, thanks?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow. "But, uh, you aren't my type."

"Don't worry, you aren't mine either," she laughed. "Mortal and such. Anyways, the other thing I gave you was the ability to play at a professional level. Can't have you looking like an amateur."

"How can you _give_ someone the ability-." Dean began to ask, his words cutting off as a massive amount of information and memories that were not his began to flood his mind. He blinked several times as he processed this information. He instantly knew everything about Quidditch and he felt extremely comfortable with the sport as well, despite knowing that it was now played in the air. "Nevermind."

"Well, that's all the help I am going to give for a while," she said happily. "And I mean that literally. From now on, you, Sam, Crowley, and Castiel are very much on your own. Enjoy the wizarding world, Dean. I will see you later."

With a wink, the Guide vanished in a mass of blue sparks. Dean sighed in annoyance and continued his way down to the pitch, pausing after only a few steps. He pulled his broom off his shoulder and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. With his new memories he knew everything about this broom. It was a firebolt and the absolute latest model at that. For a moment, just a moment, he looked at it with the same admiration that he would with his car. But then the moment passed and he swung his foot over the broom and kicked off, soaring towards the pitch.

Oliver was pacing before a line of students garbed in red and gold, clearly giving them some sort of speech. Dean watched as one of the students pointed him out. Oliver gave a curious sort of jump dance and hastily moved to stand in line alongside the other Gryffindors. Touching down in front of them, Dean shouldered his broom once more. "Good evening Professor!" The Gryffindors said in clearly practiced unison.

"So, Oliver asked me to help you out," Dean said, walking in front of them. "To give you some pointers."

"Yes sir!" Oliver said excitedly.

Dean stopped short and glared at Oliver. "I wasn't finished." He said in a low voice. He pulled a whistle out of his pocket and looked at it fondly. "Take a lap."

Oliver frowned in confusion. "A lap?" He repeated.

Dean pointed at the side of the field. "Run around the edge of the field."

"Uh, Professor, don't you mean fly?" George asked warily. "I mean, this is Quidditch."

"You two can join him," Dean said, pointing at the twins. He blew his whistle loudly and roared, "Get moving!"

The three designated players took off running just as Dean turned his attention back to the others. "Where is my Seeker?" He asked, looking up and down the line. A small brown-haired boy stepped forward, looking straight forward. Dean nodded and then kicked open the box that held the Bludgers and the Snitch. The two murderous balls went whizzing off a moment later, followed closely by the Snitch. "Quidditch is a game of speed, cunning, and power. You have five minutes to catch the Snitch or you will take a lap like them."

Harry looked at Dean with open-mouthed shock until Dean tapped his wrist as though asking for time. The Seeker grabbed his broom and went tearing off in the general direction that the Snitch had gone. "Now, you three are my Chasers then, correct?" he asked, looking at the three remaining players.

"Yes sir," one of the said, a worried tone in her voice.

"Well I am going to teach you three one of the best games that I have ever played," Dean said, drawing his wand and grabbing the Quaffle. He pointed his wand at the Quaffle and then tossed it to the girls. "Get in the air. Hot potato. If that Quaffle hits the ground, you run."

The one who caught the ball opened her mouth to ask a question and then realized that the Quaffle was now extremely hot. She shrieked and dropped the ball. "Run." Dean said pointing at her. The other two exchanged a look of disbelief and grabbed their brooms as she followed Fred, George, and Oliver around the field. The remaining Chasers took off into the air, passing the Quaffle back and forth between themselves as rapidly as they could.

And so went the practice. Dean proved to be a very effective trainer though his methods were very akin to the ones that his father used in raising him. Punish failure and not acknowledging success. It might not have been the most effective approach at coaching, but it was the one he used nonetheless. By the end of practice the Gryffindor team was soaked in sweat and mud from the field, all of them having run several laps at the very least. "Alright, line up." Dean called.

They made their way over to Dan and stood in front of them, breathing hard to the last. He waited for them to catch their breath and then nodded approvingly. "I have to say, I am impressed," he said, pacing in front of them. "You have some rusty points, but you are still kids so that is to be expected. I know some of you may not be my biggest fan right now, and that is fine. I was hard on you, I admit it. Not because I got off on watching you suffer, but because I see potential in you. All of you."

Perhaps Dean underestimated his influence on the team, but his words had an odd effect on all of them. They all straightened up and raised their heads in what he guessed was pride. Oliver in particular seemed particularly affected by his words, the manic gleam returning to his eyes. "Thank you, Professor!" he said.

"Each of you have things to work on, things you need to improve," Dean said frankly. "I won't lie, you have work to do. But on the other hand you each have things you are amazing at already. I can help you this season, if you want. But the decision has to be unanimous. Don't decide right now, come find me after you have made your decision." Dean swung a foot over his broom just as a Bludger came flying at the group from across the field.

"Professor, I don't think-." Oliver began.

Dean clapped his hand at one of the twins and the Weasley tossed him his bat. "This isn't your just your decision Oliver," he told him, his bat held at the ready as the Bludger came at them. "A good captain listens to his team."

At the last possible moment Dean swung his bat at the Bludger and sent the violent little ball flying away, soaring through the far right goal post.


	17. They?

A few weeks after that Quidditch practice Sam was standing before one of his classes, a group of fifth years, and was attempting to teach them non-lethal incapacitation methods. A few of them had figured it out to at least some extent but the majority of the class was still struggling with a full body-bind curse. "Remember," he said, striding between the pairs of students as they took turns attempting to hex each other. "Visualize immobilizing them. You aren't trying to kill them, you are trying to keep them from killing you."

"I'm bloody well trying," One Slytherin grumbled under his breath.

Sam smiled encouragingly at the student in question and winced good-naturedly as his partner immobilized him. He gave her a thumbs up and continued his walk. Over the weeks that he had been at Hogwarts he had grown quite fond of his new House. The Slytherin students were eager to learn and displayed an abundance of tenacity and grit. He often found himself reminding himself just how unfairly the books had treated them. Gryffindors were a prideful bunch, Sam found himself thinking more and more often. In addition to that he had more Slytherins in his office than any other House, all of them eager to drink in knowledge and master the spells he taught them. It had once gotten to the point when he had so many students in his office that he suggested moving the impromptu lesson into their dormitory room. Almost every Slytherin had shown up to it, though it seemed most of them had simply wanted to catch a glimpse of the famous Dark Wizard catcher.

"Professor," a cold voice called from the back of the room. Sam looked up and saw a hooked-nose dark-haired wizard striding between the students. "Might I have a word, please?"

"Of course, Severus," Sam said easily. In addition to everything else he had grown quite fond of Snape. He may have been cold to Harry in the books but it seemed that was limited to Gryffindor House. Whenever Sam had spoken to him he always enjoyed their talks. "Class, continue practicing the Body-Bind Curse. Those of you who have successfully executed it three times practice your Stunning Spells. Make sure you put cushions behind you first."

Sam led the way into a back room and Snape closed the door behind them. "What's up, Severus?" Sam asked, noting the look of annoyance on the Potions Teacher's face.

"As you are undoubtedly aware the Dementors have been posted around the school," Snape said.

Sam's face grew sour. He was aware. The dark hooded figures were a menace as far as he was concerned. He had had more than one student come to him with pale faces and shaking hands. He had taken to having a large supply of Honeydukes chocolate on hand at all times since these events had taken place. He had at first sent them to the hospital wing, but Crowley seemed to be mocking every student that they sent his way. It seemed only the Ravenclaws were marginally safe from this, granted this was only so because they responded back with just as much snark and sarcasm as the King of Hell meted out. "Yes, have they been causing trouble?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Moreso than usual?"

"Unfortunately," Sam said, his face as sour as Sam's. "It seems as though they are growing restless and moving closer and closer to the castle. Evidently one was even found within the Great Hall last night."

"That can't be tolderated," Sam said flatly. "Seriously. If we let that slide, what next? One of them getting hungry and giving the Kiss to a student?"

"Precisely my point," Severus nodded, the barest hint of a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Unfortunately the teachers here have our hands tied as they are here on the orders of the Minister of Magic himself."

"Which means that you can't really do anything to them or it will come back on you," Sam understood precisely where Severus's position left him. "Can't the Headmaster do something to help?"

"I would prefer not to worry Dumbledore with this information," Snape said. "Particularly when my students tell me that you handled the Dementors on the train so easily."

"Understood, Severus," Sam said softly. "I'll deal with it."

"You have my thanks," Snape said, turning to the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to Sam with an inquisitive look on his face. "One more thing. Your brother, were you aware that he has been traveling into the Forbidden Forest at night for the past two weeks?"

This being news to Sam, he frowned thoughtfully. "No, I hadn't," he said slowly. "How did you find this out?"

Snape shrugged. "I've made it a point to take a walk outside at night for some time," he said softly, a distant expression on his face. "These walks are usually quite late at night. I've seen your brother return from the Forbidden Forest several times now, his clothes often torn up. I understand that he has a rather lackadaisical view on creatures as he has quite the reputation of being good with creatures, but there are creatures in there that are better left alone."

"I appreciate the heads up, Severus," Sam said. "I'll talk to him about it, but Dean usually has a good reason for doing things."

"Nonetheless, I thought that you would like to know," Snape nodded a goodbye at Sam as he went about his way. Sam followed after him and continued his lesson, his mind abuzz with thoughts of what Dean could be doing in the Forbidden Forest. He resolved to ask his brother about this the very next time he saw him.

In another classroom Castiel was giving his lesson, detailing the various methods in which Muggles traveled. "You see class," Castiel was saying, running a hand over the motorcycle he had conjured. "Muggles tend to associate things such as masculinity with their vehicles."

One of the students raised a hand and Castiel nodded at them. "Professor, how fast did you say these things can go?"

"I believe the maximum speed on bikes such as these is around one hundred and twenty miles per hour," Cas said, patting the bike's leather seat. "Why do you ask?"

"Well… Muggles don't have magic do they?" the student asked slowly. "Is there some contraption or something that can save them if they fall off of it going that fast?"

Castiel shook his head. "There is not, though I am glad that you asked that as it brings me into my next point." He waved his wand and the bike vanished. "You see, Muggle males tend to associate things like speed and danger with masculinity. This is especially true amongst older muggles as they attempt to avoid getting what is called the 'dad-bod'"

This statement caused a mass of hands to shoot into the air and Castiel patted the air with both hands. "Calm down, I will be happy to explain this." He was about to do just that when the bell signaling the end of classes rang. The students groaned loudly and began to gather up their things. "Ah, yes, well I suppose we will just have to wait for next class to discuss the dad bod. For homework I would like each of you to speculate what the term dad bod could mean. A few paragraphs will do for now. Class dismissed."

The students filed out of his classroom and Castiel sat down with a sigh of relief. Teaching humans was a tedious thing, particularly as he was still adjusting to being one himself. He had to admit that having access to magic was a wonderful thing indeed as he had far more magic at his disposal than he would as an angel. Even teleportation was a feasible thing here, though he had yet to try it.

"Tell me, are you deliberately trying to scar the students?" A snide voice asked, "Or are you just simple?"

"What do you want Crowley?" Castiel asked with a sigh. "Nothing to do at the hospital wing?"

"Fortunately there is not," Crowley said, though he seemed somewhat annoyed by this than anything. "Thought I would see what it is you were teaching the little prats. I am happy to see I was not disappointed."

"Did you have some other purpose for being here, or were you here simply to annoy me?" Castiel gathered up the homework he had collected for the day and placed it under his arm. "I have papers to grade."

"No, just thought I would check up on my formerly feathered friend." Crowley offered Castiel a drink from his flask in a gesture of companionship but the angel shook his head. "More for me then. Seen Moose or Squirrel lately?"

It was a fair question. After the first several days the four had rarely had a spare moment to see one another. Dean was busy with his classes and assisting the Gryffindor Quidditch team, something Sam apparently felt was cheating. Sam was busy offering extra courses to the Slytherins, though to be fair he had helped the other Houses as well though to a lesser extent. Crowley was on call at all hours of the night at the hospital wing and it seemed that there were more nights than not that a student managed to do something to injure themselves. On Castiel's part he was constantly thinking of new lessons to keep the students interested which he found to be rather challenging. After exploring the mystery of strippers he had moved onto the devotion showed to their pets. This was the first day he had gone over vehicles and he was certain that this was a lesson that would take up a majority of the year. He hoped, at least.

"No, they have been rather busy of late," Castiel said shortly, brushing past Crowley and heading towards his private quarters. He nodded to students as they greeted him in the hallway, noting that Crowley was following behind him. "As have you and I."

"A fair point, which is precisely why I thought we could have a little naughty night out," Crowley said with an evil chuckle. "Bit of a relaxer, you see."

"I have papers to grade," Castiel said, though the concept of spending a night drinking with Sam and Dean was a tempting one. In addition he could most likely gain some insight from them about possible lesson plans.

"That's the good thing about being a teacher," Crowley said, smirking. "Make your own hours. At least, you can with magic at least. Enchant a quill to write for you or something to that effect. Simple. Or fail the lot of them for all I care."

"I can't fail them simply because I wish to drink with you three," Castiel said a bit loudly as he turned into his quarters.

"Whose drinking?" Dean asked, looking up from where he was reading one of the papers Castiel had graded. "Cas I thought we told you to cool with the whole stripper thing, this kid knows way too much."

"I could not simply stop a lesson halfway through," Castiel argued. It was then that Castiel noted the various cuts and scrapes that adorned Dean's neck and arms. He guessed that his shirt had many more wounds of a similar variety. "Dean, what happened to you?"

Dean glanced down at his arms and pulled his sleeves down some. "Nothing, they just like playing a bit rough."

"They?" Crowley asked, pulling a tub of something out of his coat and tossing it to Dean. "Apply that to your wounds and they won't even scar. Come to me if you get any nastier ones. Can't have you dying now can we?"

"So I hear we are going drinking tonight?" Dean said, pocketing the tub and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "I bet they have some awesome magical booze."


	18. Drinking

They did, in fact, have some pretty amazing magical booze as the five sat at a bar known as the Hog's Head. Getting Sam to join them on their escapades was pretty easy and Dean even managed to convince Remus to join them. The five of them had originally tried to go to the Three Broomsticks but they had been continually accosted by students, not the least of which were Oliver Wood who would not take the hint. So they had exited the warm and welcoming bar in favor of the dimly lit, if seedier, bar. "So, tell me you four, what do you think of Hogwarts thus far?" Remus asked, sipping appreciatively at a mildly smoking blue drink.

"It's taken some getting used to," Castiel said, a mug of firewhisky before him. "Teaching is something I have some experience in, but in this setting it has been a trial."

"Yes, I've heard some of your lessons," Remus laughed, shaking his head. "Not entirely sure that some of them are appropriate for children mind you, but I suppose you would be the subject matter expert."

"How have things been on you Remus?" Dean asked. "Some of the kids told me you've been trying to get your hands on a few creatures to teach them how to beat them?"

"Indeed," Remus nodded. "I've been searching for a boggart recently in point of fact. I thought that, perhaps, there might be one hidden away in some of the older classrooms that haven't been used in some time. No luck thus far, I am afraid."

"A boggart?" Sam asked, frowning as Crowley began to mutter something while pointing his wand at the dirty mug that the bartender had put before him. "Trying to teach them how to defeat them, or teach them about self-discovery?"

"A little of both, I think." Lupin said after a moment's contemplation. "This world is far from a safe one, even with Voldemort gone. With the dementors causing trouble I thought that it was a good way for me to show them that fear is always best fought with laughter."

"Speaking of dementors," Crowley said, stowing his wand in the depths of his robe and taking a drink from his mug. "We should really do something about them. I have had a plethora of students come into the hospital wing after run-ins with them. One of them is still there, poor dear still can't so much as speak. I am a fan of the Azkaban guardians, but that's a bit much."

"I quite agree," Lupin said, toasting Crowley's words.

"Severus actually asked me about that," Sam said. "Apparently one of them was in the Great Hall the other night."

Dean set his mug down with a bit more force than absolutely necessary. "One of those monsters was inside the Great Hall?" he asked, a dark glint in his eye. "Is it still breathing?"

"I would imagine so," Lupin said, unconcerned with Dean's small outburst. Since coming to Hogwarts he and Dean had spent quite some time together and they had become quite close. He was quite familiar with Dean's antics. "It is remarkably hard to kill a dementor. The _Patronus_ Charm repels them, but they are immune to most curses including unforgivable ones. The best way to kill them would probably be to starve them."

The group fell into silence, the only sound being the small bubbling from Lupin's glass. "Has there been any word on Sirius Black?" Cas asked after a few minutes of silence. "To my understanding many of the students are still quite on edge about that."

"None I am afraid," Lupin said. Dean saw the look of discontent that passed across Lupin's face and knew it was something more than just the fact that Sirius was still at large. "Though they are doing their utmost to find him."

"You know, I thought this idea was about enjoying ourselves?" Crowley asked, discreetly pointing his wand at each of their glasses in turn. "This is all very sobering and that is the exactly what we should not be."

Lupin laughed and shook his head. "I am afraid I must call it a night at any rate."

"Come on now, Remus," Dean said good-naturedly. "It's the weekend!"

Lupin smiled but shook his head. "Exactly. Tomorrow is the full moon and a good night's sleep would do me good I think."

"Alright, alright," Dean nodded. "If you need anything, give us a shout."

"Come now gentleman, one more drink for the road?" Crowley asked, raising his glass in a toast. "Surely that won't impact you too much?"

"One more drink," Dean agreed. The other three raised their glasses and they drank deeply.

It was the last thing that they remembered of that night, courtesy of Crowley's sneaky little spellwork that exponentially increased the effects of alcohol.

Sam awoke in a very unfamiliar place, his head pounding with one of the worst hangovers he had ever felt. So intense was the headache he felt that he didn't give into his instinct to sit up suddenly, opting to instead stare at the ceiling which appeared to be made up of enchanted stars and planets. A horrible thought occurred to him then and he reached out with his left arm, the one that was closest to the center of the bed, and suppressed a groan of horror when he felt a warm body next to him. He, very slowly, sat up and glanced over to the other person in bed with him. He was taken aback to see a pair of eyes staring right back at him. "Good morning, Mr. Winchester," Trelawney said, her voice positively purring. "As I told you last night, I had seen that one day you would be drawn into my bedchambers."

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, wondering if the Divination professor had drugged him somehow. It was the only logical option he could think of. "What, erm, what happened last night?"

"Oh, what _didn't_ happen last night would be a much better question," she said, rising from the bed and crossing to the other side of the room. "You came into my room at the dead of night claiming that you thought it was your own bedchambers, but I knew that hunger in your eyes when I saw it. Truly, you did not have to hide your desire for it was clear to me the second that you entered the Great Hall for the Entrance Banquet that you and I were destined to be together."

Sam seriously contemplated leaping from her window and dealing with the consequences of such an action. He looked desperately around the room for his clothes and found that he could not identify them. This wasn't helped by the fact that her room was positively a mess. "Where, uh, where are my clothes?" he asked with a polite smile.

"I would imagine they are where you left them, in my living area," Trelawney said, sweeping out of the room in a dressing gown. She returned a few minutes later with what looked like the shredded remains of the clothes he had been wearing yesterday. "They are a bit tattered, but I am sure that they will be repaired quite well."

Sam held out the robe he had worn yesterday before him and thought for a long moment about what had happened the night before. The last thing he remembered was raising his glass to one last drink with the others. It was then he realized that the other four were nowhere to be found. "Did you see Crowley, Castiel, Dean, or Remus with me last night?"

Trelawney frowned and shook her head. "I am afraid that I was, ah, preoccupied." Her mouth twisted into a dirty little smile and Sam bolted from the room the moment that he had his pants on.

Sam made his way first to Dean's room and, upon not finding him there, Castiel's room. Unfortunately both were empty which led him down to the hospital wing. Thankfully, one of the four he was looking for was there. Crowley was curled up on a hospital bed with his coat wrapped around him like a blanket. "Crowley!" Sam shouted when he saw the former demon. He instantly regretted his decision to shout and regretted it even more when Crowley pulled his wand out and pointed it at the general direction Sam's shout had come from. A loud bang rang forth and a jet of red light soared forward, causing Sam to dive out of the way. Thankfully the spell hit a wall and not a passing student, causing the stone to crack. "What the hell was that for?"

"Shouting!" Crowley said irritably, blinking several times and glaring around the room. "Next time I won't miss, assuming I guess which one of you is the real one Moose. Where's Feathers, Moon, and Squirrel?"

"Moon?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. "You mean Remus?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Crowley asked, pulling on his coat and reaching into it for his flask. He took a very deep draft of the liquid within and shivered. "Much better. Care for some? It's a guaranteed hangover cure."

"Its whiskey, isn't it?" Sam asked, eyeing the flask suspiciously.

"Yes it is."


	19. Hangover

Teleportation, or Apparating as it seemed to be known in this world, was possibly the most enjoyable thing Castiel had found about this world thus far. Though he never had openly admitted it, the loss of his wings and his subsequent inability to teleport was by a huge loss to him. So when he realized that apparating was quite simple, and not at all difficult, he felt as though a crucial part of him had been returned.

However, when Castiel awoke, he cursed his newly returned teleportation ability. His head was pounding with what humans referred to as a hangover and he had absolutely no clue where he was. It was bitterly cold and he had evidently made some sort of shelter out of his trench coat. He blinked several times and glared around at the forest that surrounded him, unsure of what had happened. Like Sam, he had no memory of the night before. He crawled out from underneath his trench coat tent and picked it up, knocking the snow that had accumulated on top of it. Extraordinarily thirsty he stumbled to a creek that was nearby and shoved his entire head underneath the water to both drink and relieve the headache that threatened to split his head in two. When he resurfaced he shook the excess water off and, feeling marginally better, attempted to get a better handle on his surroundings. From his time as an angel he had a vast knowledge of different places in the world and he was reasonably confident that he was in Norway. _Why_ he was in Norway, however, he hadn't a single clue. "Sam? Dean? Crowley? Remus?" Castiel called, turning in a circle. He pulled out his wand and cast a locator spell, determining if anyone was in the immediate area. There seemed to be none, which both worried and relieved him.

Deciding that returning to Hogwarts was his best option Castiel disappeared with a loud _crack_ and reappeared in the center of the Hog's Head bar, thoroughly startling a dirty-robed small person who had been walking past. "It weren't me, I never seen them!" He yelped, diving for cover underneath a table.

The bartender glanced up from where he stood behind the bar, seemingly not have moved a single step from where he had been last night. "About time you got back," the bartender grunted. "You still owe me for your drinks."

Castiel took out a number of Galleons from his pocket and placed them on the bar. "Have you seen my friends?"

"You mean the other four you were drinking with last night?" the bartender asked, pocketing the money. "They all left right after you did. Bloody impolite, apparating in a bar by the way. The sick looking one staggered out saying something about finding an old friend. The big one with the long hair said something about sleeping. The other two didn't say anything, just left."

"What is the fastest way back to Hogwarts?" Castiel asked, throwing another Galleon onto the bar. Bribery, he remembered from Sam and Dean, seemed to accelerate things.

The bartender seemed as susceptible to money as a normal human, pocketing the money and pointing at the corner of the room. "There's a broomstick in that room. You can borrow it but I want it back."

Castiel thanked him and grabbed the broomstick, running outside and throwing a leg over it. He had seen Dean do it several times and it seemed rather simple in concept. He kicked off the ground and immediately slid off the back of the broom, landing in the mud and snow that was all over the ground. He frowned at the broomstick which hovered slightly off the ground. "That did not go as expected," he said uncertainly. Perhaps flying was a bit more difficult than he had previously thought.

Unlike Castiel and Sam, Dean knew exactly where he was when he awoke. How he had gotten there, however, he hadn't the slightest idea. It was early morning, the sun having only just risen slightly above the horizon. "Ah, I was wondering when you would awake." A rough voice said from somewhere to Dean's right. He sat up and shook the leaves out of his hair, blinking several times in the light. "Ugh, the hell happened?" he asked the voice, recognizing it. "How did I get here?"

"You walked." It said simply, the barest trace of humor evident.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me the obvious," Dean said dryly. His comment was met with a soft wheezing sound he knew was their version of laughter. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Well we found you stumbling around last night and we rather thought that you could use someone to keep an eye on you, inebriated as you were." Another voice, still known to Dean, answered. "The centaurs were a bit grumpy that you were stumbling around the forest in the dead of night, so we decided to keep an eye on you. Didn't want them or the spiders to get any funny ideas."

"Thanks for the assist," Dean said, rising to his feet and cracking his neck with a relieved groan. "I owe you guys one. Anything you need, name it."

"We will keep that in mind," the original voice promised. "For now though, we have some things we would like to attend to if you wouldn't mind. The castle is directly to your right. Go in a straight line and you will come out right behind the half-giant's hut. Also, would you _please_ tell him to tell Aragog to watch his territory? His family continues to take all the prey in this area and it is absolutely annoying."

"Yeah, I'll have a word with him." Dean promised. "Anything you guys need while I am thinking of it?"

"Some new reading material would be rather nice," a third voice jumped in. "I've already gone through the books you brought last time."

"Wow, already?"

"You would be surprised at how much free time we have," the third voice said. "Perhaps this time something a bit more enjoyable to read? _Hogwarts, A History_ is all well and good but I have had more fun watching leaves fall."

Dean promised he would and set off in the direction that he had been instructed, handling the hangover with all the practiced ease of a veteran drinker.


	20. Never Again

Dean had been through some rough hangovers, and the subsequent questionable places he had awoken. To him, waking up in the Forbidden Forest did not even register on his radar of bad places. It had actually been somewhat comfortable when considering the places he and Sam had stayed whilst on a hunt. He trudged along through the forest, an uncomfortable feeling of being followed nagging at his instincts. He knew the area fairly well and between the centaurs, the spiders, and his well-hidden friends the area was extremely safe. The most he had run into was a very territorial hinkypunk however, when he had ventured deeper into the woods, he had encountered some very dangerous creatures. Hidebehinds, Ghouls, and though he had only briefly seen it he swore that a Chimaera roamed those woods as well. But that was far, far deeper into the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid told him that, on occasion, some of the more dangerous creatures had a habit of making their way into areas closer to the castle but that was rare. Unless Hagrid decided that he wanted one of course, which seemed to happen pretty often.

He continued on for a few more minutes when the sense of being followed came to a head and he whirled around, expecting to see some creature diving away for cover to avoid being seen. He did _not_ expect to see a Ford Anglia floating slightly in the air behind him. "Werewolves, moving staircases, giant snakes, and now flying cars? What was with this place? "Uh, nice… car?" Dean said warily, assuming that the car could understand him. "Don't run me over."

The car's engine roared once and then it took off, narrowly avoiding taking Dean's head off with its back tire. Dean muttered the entire way back to the castle, taking the car's apparent rejection of him somewhat personally. Baby wouldn't have treated him like that if she was here, she would have given him a ride. When he finally made his way out of the Forbidden Forest he was only mildly surprised to see Hagrid leading a bunch of Hippogriffs from one paddock to the next, looking thoroughly shaken. "Hey Hagrid," Dean called, hopping over the fence that housed the hippogriffs. "What's up?"

Dean's suspicions were confirmed when the large man nearly jumped out of his skin. For a man who habitually attempted to cuddle with creatures who wanted to eat him, this was a very telling and worrying sign. "Oh, it's jus' you Dean," Hagrid said, closing the gate. "Sorry abou' tha'. Thought you were someone else."

"Nope, just me," Dean said, bowing to Tempest and stroking the beast's feathers when she bowed back.

"'spose you are looking for Remus then?" Hagrid asked, nodding to his cabin. "He's inside, dead asleep las' I checked."

Dean noted this, but if Remus was asleep he undoubtedly needed the rest considering that tonight was the full moon. "Thanks but, uh, Hagrid what's up man? You seem off."

The waterworks started then, and Dean massively regretted his decision to inquire as to Hagrid's mood. The large man burst into tears and wrapped Dean in a massive bear hug as he sobbed, leaning most of his weight onto him. "They're gonna kill my Buckbeak," he wailed.

Dean struggled to simultaneously breathe, hold Hagrid up, and prevent the large man from crushing his ribs. He spied Sam running towards him with a confused look, Crowley strolling down the hill calmly behind him. "Help," he said weakly.

The combined efforts of he and Sam were able to push Hagrid back onto the fence where the wood creaked in protest as Hagrid sat on it. "This about Buckbeak then?" Sam asked, catching his breath. Another wrong move as it turned out.

"So you've heard abou' it too!" Hagrid sobbed even louder, lurching off the fence and embracing Sam in a hug much like the one Dean had just experienced. "I knew it! I'm goin' ta get fired for sure! All the teachers mus' be waitin' for it."

"Come on now man, pull yourself together," Crowley said, finally arriving at the scene. He pulled his ever present flask from his pocket and firmly placed it in Hagrid's massive hand. "Have a drink, there's a good lad."

Hagrid nodded his thanks to Crowley and began to drink from the flask. After a few seconds of this Dean glanced to the former King of Hell in question and Crowley shrugged in response. "Permanent refilling charm," he said simply, a mischievous smirk on his face. "For those days when I actually contemplate drowning myself in alcohol."

Hagrid drank for a solid minute, impressing even the veteran drinker in Dean. When he finally finished he shook his head once and handed the flask back to Crowley who discreetly cleaned it on Sam's robe. "Thanks you three," Hagrid said, breathing normally now except for the occasional hiccup.

"What were you talking about man, who is going to kill Buckbeak?" Dean asked.

Hagrid's voice grew progressively more slurred throughout the tale, but eventually he managed to explain to them the events that had taken place between the hippogriff and Draco Malfoy. Evidently the boy's parents were furious and were calling for both Hagrid's immediate dismissal and the execution of the beast. Recognizing the signs of an imminent alcoholic induced slumber they coaxed Hagrid back into his cabin, waking Lupin and moving him from the bed and letting Hagrid fall onto the bed. The cabin shook slightly at the fall of the half-giant but the bed didn't break. "Does someone care to explain to me what just happened?" Lupin asked uncertainly, glancing between Hagrid and the others. "Where's Castiel? How did I get here?"

Dean was just about to answer when there was a knock at the cabin door. Sam opened the door and revealed a mud-covered and very unhappy Castiel. The angel strode into the room, an old broomstick in his hand. He tossed it into the corner of the room and stood silently, dripping mud and snow onto the cabin's floor. "Quite like the new look, Feathers." Crowley said amusedly. "Really does you justice."

"Cas, what happened to you?" Sam asked, ignoring Crowley's quip.

"I woke up in Norway and I Apparated back to the bar we went to last night and he lent me this broomstick so I could make my way back to the castle as there is a spell preventing teleporting within the boundary of the castle." Castiel explained. "Flying is very difficult."

His look dared the others to any further questions. "Okay then," Dean said, stretching out the 'o' in okay and turning to Sam. "What happened to you and why do you smell nice?"

Sam's face turned red. "What, I'm not allowed to smell nice?"

"You smell like a chick," Dean said, noting the evasion and preparing to barrage his brother with questions until he cracked. "And like sex."

The taller Winchester was about to answer when a scream came from the direction of the castle. The five of them left Hagrid in the cabin and bolted toward the direction that the scream came from, even Crowley. They quickly identified the source of the scream, a first year student was on the ground in the fetal position with his hands covering his head as a group of dark-hooded figures floated around him. "Oh hell no," Dean said, ripping his wand from his pocket and aiming it at the dementors. His cry of ' _Expecto Patronum'_ was echoed by four other voices and a barrage of silvery figures rished towards the dementors. A silver lion batted away one black robed figure with one massive paw, a large serpent sank its fangs into another, a wolf tackled a third, a large winged horse struck out with its hooves, and Dean's own impala impaled the last with its horn. The dementors made inhuman shrieks of pain and anger as their meal was taken from them. The professors circled the child and, surprising everyone, Crowley took the small Ravenclaw into his arms. "Inside, now." Remus said tensely, his eyes on the distance where the dementors had stopped running and were now watching them.

Once they had safely placed the first-year in the hospital wing they allowed themselves a moment to breathe. "While I do so enjoy your company, I am afraid that this will be the last time that I go drinking with you four." Remus said after a few minutes of silence. "Especially if this is the norm."

"You have no idea." Castiel said gravely.


	21. Preparations

Dean and Sam were sitting in Dean's room, grading papers and doing a bit of research late in the day. It was Halloween and the vast majority of the student body had gone off to Hogsmeade with only a few of them staying behind for various reasons. It was a rare moment of peace and quiet for the brothers, and they were enjoying it. Dean was reading a book on rare creature sightings in England in the past century while Sam was grading papers he had assigned to his sixth year students on the usage of non-combat spells in a combat situation. According to Madam Pomfrey Crowley had gone off for some 'me time away from all the little prats' as he put it. Castiel was off researching new subject material.

The sound of Dean chuckling drew Sam's attention away from his grading and he looked up, a look of interested amusement on his face. "What?" Sam asked, his curiosity aroused.

"Oh, nothing," Dean said, marking the page in his book and closing it. He absentmindedly stroked Lucy's head while he smiled at nothing in particular. "It's just… I don't know, nice? It's nice seeing you doing what you are good at."

Sam raised an eyebrow and a single laugh escaped him. "What I'm good at?" He asked skeptically, gesturing down to the papers. "Reading students' work and grading it? Yeah, real difficult."

"No, not just that," Dean said, waving a hand dismissively. "Being a teacher, having a normal job."

"Normal?" Sam repeated.

Dean waved a hand and rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

The younger Winchester considered this for a long moment. "I guess I see where you are coming from," he said, shrugging slightly.

"You know, there have been so many damn times I regretted that day I showed up on you and Jess's door step." Dean's voice was serious now. He laughed, a cold hard sound now, and shook his head. "So many times. Hell, I can't even begin to wonder about how much better your life would have been if I had just gone looking for dad all on my own."

"You can't blame that on yourself," Sam argued. "Azazel would have killed Jess no matter what, you know that."

"Maybe," Dean said, his tone still disbelieving. "I don't know Sam, this place is good for you. You are happy here. Being a teacher is probably the best thing that could have happened."

"And what about you?" Sam asked, accustomed to these odd moods that occasionally gripped Dean. "You aren't doing too badly yourself. Hell, you are doing just as well as I am. In fact the only one who I am worried about is Crowley."

"Yeah, no kidding." Dean said, shaking his head and smiling once more. "Those poor kids."

"Believe it or not he hasn't been all that bad," Sam offered. "One of the older students was hexed so that he only spoke in rhymes. Crowley fixed him in no time flat."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Dean said slowly, dreading what the second half of the statement was.

"But Crowley fixed him by putting a silencing charm on him." Sam, despite his disapproval, laughed.

Dean couldn't help himself either and started to laugh along with his brother. "Yeah, well, that's Crowley for you."

Evidently their mirth could be heard from outside as Albus Dumbedore strode into the room with a quizzical smile on his face. "It is always good to hear laughter coming from a room in Hogwarts," the Headmaster said. "Unless of course that laughter is coming from the Divination tower. I have been made aware that laughter from that classroom is often an ill omen."

"Yeah, well," Dean said, his eyes glinting wickedly as he turned to Sam. "Not all sounds that come from up there are bad. Isn't that right Sammy?"

"Everything alright, Headmaster?" Sam asked, pointedly ignoring Dean's innuendo. He had managed to avoid telling Dean about his one night stand with Trelawney. Somehow his brother still got wind of it and the innuendos had been relentless ever since.

"Oh, absolutely," Dumbledore said, peering down at the two brothers from his half-moon spectacles. "I merely wished to borrow your brother for a little while, Samuel. Unless you are too busy, Dean?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope." He rose from where he sat and gave Lucy one final pet. He winked at Sam. "Didn't see this one _coming_ , did you Sam?"

With that parting jab Dean followed Albus out of the room. Once in the corridor, he matched the older man's pace and asked, "So what's up?"

"Tell me, what do you know of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not a thing," Dean said truthfully, "Should I?"

"Well, to put it simply it is just as the name implies. A Tournament between three different wizards. These three wizards come from three different schools across Europe and, due to the diligence and efforts of multiple Ministries, the Tri Wizard tournament will take place next year right here at Hogwarts."

"Awesome," Dean said. "What does it have to do with me?"

"Naturally the schools involved want the most competent wizards helping out behind the scenes," Dumbledore explained as they descended a staircase. "I should have said this earlier, but this tournament is incredibly dangerous."

"If it's dangerous, why is it being held here?" Dean asked slowly, "It's not like the kids are going to be competing, right?"

"I understand that you may have some reservations about this," Dumbledore said gravely, his tone indicating that Dean was not alone in this. "But that is precisely why I thought I would ask you to invite this meeting. The other two Headmasters have come to Hogwarts in secret in order for the Ministries to keep the Tournament quiet until they are quite ready to reveal the event. The other Headmasters thought that it would be best if we had a discussion about ways to ensure the safety of those participating."

"So why not bring Sam along too?" Dean asked. "He's a famous dark wizard catcher right, wouldn't him being here help the others feel a bit more relaxed?"

"Not quite," Dumbledore said. "Sam's fame is, as I am sure you are aware, very widespread. One of the other headmasters has a past that left him asking me if I would mind leaving Samuel out of this meeting. It was a matter of personal safety and comfort."

"So you are telling me that one of the other Headmasters is a former dark wizard?" Dean asked incredulously. "And you still let him into this school?"

"I believe in the fundamental goodness of the human soul, Dean Winchester." Dumbledore's tone was stern, but not overly so. "Igor repented for the things he did in the past, putting himself at great personal risk to do so. The sins of our past need not always shape our future."

With this bit of wisdom Dean fell silent, contemplating it. They walked the rest of the way in silence, which suited both men well enough. Dumbledore pushed open an unused classroom door and Dean nodded his thanks, stepping inside. His eyes immediately darted to what was unquestionably Igor. He studied the man intently for a few moments before his eyes moved onto the other occupants of the room. There was a giant woman, easily standing even taller than Hagrid, but though she took up the most room Dean's attention was entirely removed from her. It was the dark haired woman that stood beside the giant woman that captured his entire attention. His mouth opened and closed several times before he swallowed nervously. He _knew_ that woman.

She seemed to notice his focus on her and smiled uncomfortably. A very, _very_ familiar smile. "Ah, I am sorry, but do I know you?"

Dean couldn't find his voice for a few moments and when he did it was scarcely above a whisper. "Lisa."

 **Thank you as ever for your reviews and taking your time to read my story, dear readers. I am finishing up the Avengers/Supernatural crossover first chapter very soon so, if that is your sort of story, stay tuned! I hope your New Year has been wonderful thus far. -Hallowed**


	22. Show Them

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Lisa asked, clearly confused and slight taken aback at Dean's recognition of her.

Dean opened his mouth to respond that yes, of course she knew him! How could she not recognize him? But then his logical side asserted itself. Lisa and Ben were gone from his life. Cas had wiped their memory of him. The fact that she was here now was, undoubtedly, some cosmic test or joke by the Guide. Everyone in the room was looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting on some sort of explanation. He cleared his throat and affected an apologetic façade. "Sorry, you look just like someone I know back home."

"Oh, is her name Lisa too?" she asked, her voice still wary but somewhat less so.

"Yeah, she's a good friend of mine," Dean laughed. Now that the initial shock had subsided he began to notice several differences in his Lisa and this new world's. To begin with, his Lisa certainly did not have a French accent. "Sorry if I startled you."

"It's perfectly fine," The giant woman standing beside Lisa said, moving forward and extending a hand towards Dean. "I av' 'eard quite a lot about you, Mr. Weenchester."

"Indeed," a gruff looking man said, striding forward as well and seizing Dean's hand the second he was finished shaking with the giant woman. "I do hope you will prove to be as capable as your reputation makes you out to be. I do have some doubts."

"Yeah, well-." Dean began, intending on making a quip regarding the man's appearance. Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder stopped him short however.

"Now, Karkaroff, is that any way to speak to one of the people who we will be entrusting the protection of our students to?" the old man asked brightly, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Protection of the students?" Dean asked. "What's that supposed to mean? What do they need protection from?"

"The Tri-Wizard tournament of course," Igor said, for all the word stating it in such a way that it was clear that he thought Dean should have already been well versed on the subject. "After quite some time, our respective governing bodies have allowed this tournament to take place. Naturally they installed several safeguards, including people capable of intervening if something should happen endangering the lives of students."

"By your accent, I assume you are from the United States?" Lisa asked curiously. "Surely you would have heard of the tournament there?"

"Never was much for paying attention to big events," Dean said honestly. Not unless they involved an apocalyptic crisis.

"Well, we can certainly catch Mr. Winchester up on the finer points of the tournament later," Dumbledore said, waving his wand and conjuring several very comfortable looking chairs and taking a seat upon one. "For now, shall we discuss the matters we came here for?"

While this took place, in the dungeons, Sam had been pulled into giving yet another private lesson to the Slytherins in their common room. He had originally been asked to assist with disarming spells, but that had rapidly devolved into him helping with other spells as well. Luckily, he seemed to be some sort of natural with spells. "Vanishing isn't that complex," Sam told them as he strode between a large group of Slytherins who were trying desperately to vanish the cushions he had placed in front of them. He had a vague memory of inanimate objects being easier to vanish than living ones. "Don't overthink it, don't try too hard at it. Take things slowly."

A shout of triumph came from Sam's right and he saw a delighted looking first year standing triumphantly over a half-vanished cushion. "I did it!" he said excitedly, his wand shooting out small red sparks. "I did it!"

"Good job!" Sam said, pointing his wand at the cushion and causing it to restore itself. "Now, keep that focus and try it again."

Other students, mostly older ones who had moved past vanishing objects, were sitting around the common room and watching with interest as Sam instructed the younger students. Every so often one of them would make a comment to one of the younger students instructing them on how to better their technique. Sam was no longer shocked at how helpful Slytherin house was to one another. To other houses, which after seeing how they were treated, they were cruel and mean. But when they were dealing with their own house, Slytherin was as kind as anyone. Sam had resolved to remedy the broken bridges between Slytherin and the other houses, and he had several ideas of how to do so. But it would not be easy. Centuries of bitter arguments and bad blood were not going to go away overnight.

"Professor!" One of the students who was lounging on a couch called. "How about telling us a story of you taking on a Dark Wizard?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Travies, if I wanted to tell you stories about my career as an Auror I would have said as much."

This was, predictably, met with a large amount of groans from everyone present. "Come on!" Another said eagerly.

"That goes for you too, Septien," Sam said sternly. "All of you, in fact. I am your professor; I can't exactly sit around and have story time. Besides, from what I have seen you lot have been getting into a bit of trouble."

There was a general chorus of, 'Trouble? Us? Never!' from the assembled Slytherins followed by a split between too-innocent looking faces and those who were grinning mischievously. Sam rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms. "Alright, those of you who are practicing Vanishing spells take a rest." Sam took a seat on an open armchair and leaned in. "Look, I get it. I really do. The other Houses treat you like dirt, so you treat them like dirt right back."

Clearly not expecting this topic to be brought up, the Slytherins shifted uneasily where they stood or sat and looked anywhere but in Sam's eyes. "A lot of people don't trust me, or even like me either," Sam confessed. He was going to edit his story a bit to fit his wizarding backstory, but he had resolved to give them advice based on past experience. "Being a Hun-, sorry, Auror, people get really nervous around me. That's part of the job though, I'm used to it. What you can never really get used to though is when people hate you for it."

"People hate you for catching Dark Wizards?" A first-year asked disbelievingly. "What for?"

"Because some times you do things that people don't like, or don't approve of," Sam said. "Sometimes those people get mad. My brother and I, when we were on the road, we were in a hotel and two people we called friends showed up and tried to kill us."

The room was dead silent, not a single student spoke or moved. "That sort of thing happens when you are an Auror. That sort of thing happens when people really don't like you." Sam shrugged. "My brother and I got out of there, obviously, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a betrayal. Slytherin House is full of friendly and bright young people with wonderful futures in front of them. But what do the other Houses see?"

"Future Dark Wizards," a seventh-year said grimly, "That's all they see when they look at us. Slytherin produced the most Dark Wizards, but other houses have popped out a few as well. They just needed someone to blame."

"Exactly," Sam nodded. "And you guys going around hexing and cursing people isn't helping things."

"But Professor, they start it just as much as we do!" A first-year said and Sam felt a swell of pity for the young student. Even as first years they had already begun to see and feel the animosity held towards their house. "We have to fight back!"

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't defend yourselves!" Sam said calmly. "You absolutely should. But, tell me, when was the last time any of you offered help to another student?"

"Herbology, just the other day!" the same first-year that had just spoken said. "I tried to help a Hufflepuff, but they ignored me."

"Then try again next class," Sam said simply. "You, all of you, have a very difficult task in front of you. Now, you can ignore me. This isn't an assignment or an order or anything like that. This is just me trying to make things easier."

"Professor, are you saying that you want us to be the other Houses' bitches?" the seventh-year asked, his chin raised defiantly. "Because I would rather get hexed every day for the rest of my time here than do that."

"Not at all," Sam shook his head vigorously. "If someone comes at you, go right back at them. Don't back down, don't give an inch. But if you lose a duel, don't go for revenge. Or, if you win a duel, don't gloat. Make sure they are alright. All of you are brilliant students. The other Houses don't know what they are missing. I just think that you should show them."


	23. Last Practice

"Good, good," Dean said, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team zoom around him on their brooms. A beater's bat was over one shoulder as George ran a lap around the field for failing to hit a bludger at his intended target. "Remember, speed is only useful when you can still be accurate. You can be as fast as the wind but it doesn't mean jack if you can't make your shot, catch the Snitch, or block your goal."

With the first Quidditch match of the season rapidly approaching in three days Dean had decided that one last grueling practice had been necessary. The sun had disappeared behind the woods of the Forbidden Forest and the cool night air caused his words to come out in a whoosh of warm fog. Only when the darkness prevented him from seeing further than fifteen feet in front of him did he finally whistle for the team to join him on the ground. He waited for them to catch their breath, which took quite some time, before he spoke. "Well done, all of you." Dean said, smiling at the students. "You have all really shown up. I couldn't be more proud of each and every one of you. Slytherin won't know what hit them. Oliver, speak to your team."

"It's my last year," Oliver's eyes were bright with determination. They were in direct contrast to his robes, which were absolutely soaked and covered in mud. "My last chance to win the Quidditch cup. I want… I _need_ this. _We_ need this. The past several years we should have won, but due to a large variety of circumstances…" The fact that they hadn't won was left hanging in the air.

"This is our year," Katie said firmly.

"We will crush Slytherin," Angelina echoed.

Dean smiled as the others joined in on the chorus. Oliver dismissed them all to the locker rooms, except for Harry who lingered behind. "Something the matter, Potter?" Dean asked, throwing his broom over his shoulder and starting back towards the school. "You practiced hard today, hit the showers."

"Professor," Harry said, worry in his tone. "Have you ever heard of a Grim?"

Dean paused at this and slowly turned to face him. "Yeah, we call them Black Dogs back in the U.S. Where did you hear about them?"

"Professor Trelawney said… well… she's the Divination teacher see, and she said that the Grim was in my future." The last came out in a rush and Dean had to take a few seconds to process the words. Once he had, a frown formed on his face. Black dogs were by no means _uncommon_ but they preferred to stay around cemeteries and places of tragedies.

"Have you noticed anything going wrong?" Dean asked, wondering where he would get an olive branch to kill the beast. "You know, a run of bad luck worse than normal? Stuff that is out of the ordinary?"

"Well… no…" Harry's voice trailed off again and Dean knew immediately where his problem was.

"You've seen it, haven't you?" Dean asked softly, turning back towards the castle and jerking with his chin for Harry to follow him.

"Well, I saw a big dark dog," Harry said nervously, jogging to keep up with Dean. "I'm not sure if it was a Grim though."

"Well, better to be safe than sorry," Dean said, his eyes darting around as he walked up the hill towards the school. "Trust me. Black dogs aren't always bad, they usually hang around graveyards and places like that, but if one marks you it's not good. Go back to your dorms tonight and try not to go outside during the dark."

"Professor, am I in danger?" Harry asked resolutely.

Dean liked the iron in Potter's voice and had to hide a smile. "No, you should be fine," Dean said. "Black dogs may take an interest in a human, but after a while their interest usually goes away." He didn't mention that half the time the interest diminished because the human in question had been killed due to the bad luck that the dog brought. But if Harry wasn't experiencing and real bad luck, the kind normally associated with Grim, it might just be a normal dog he had seen.

Dean walked Harry into the school and then bade him good night, turning to go the opposite way. It was barely eleven o' clock and yet he was as tired as he would be after driving all night long and his legs wore sore from flying for hours. Deciding to check in on Sam, he ducked into his brother's office to see what he was doing as it had been some time since he had spoken to him. Predictably, Sam was at his desk with a small mountain of papers in front of him. One such piece of parchment was held before him, his eyes scanning the page as he read. He glanced up when he heard Dean's approach and put the paper down. "Hey," he said. "Long night at practice?"

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "Slytherin is going to have a tough time Saturday. I actually had a question. Harry Potter came up to me and said he saw a Grim-."

"It's his godfather," Sam said, picking up the paper once again and continuing to read it. His quill occasionally brushed across the page to correct some mistake or make a comment. "Don't worry, it's not a Black Dog."

"His godfather is a dog?" Dean asked, lost. "Uh, what?"

"No, he's an animagus." Sam pushed a paper towards Dean. "This is a paper I assigned the seventh years on them. They're pretty accurate for the most part, so read it and get an idea."

Dean fell silent as he did just that. Occasionally he paused to ask Sam a question, but for the most part he was silent as he read through the parchment. When Dean reached for Sam's quill the younger Winchester looked at him confusedly. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well you just said that people can't transform into more than one animal, right?" Dean tugged the quill from under Sam's hand and wrote something on the paper.

"You know these are my papers, right?" Sam asked with a laugh. "You don't need to help me grade them."

Dean waved a hand dismissively and reached for another paper. "I've got nothing better to do, I don't assign homework that much at all, and I'm your brother. Helping you is in the job description."

Sam smiled at that and reached into his desk, pulling out a bottle of scotch. "I ordered this from the Three Broomsticks," he said, conjuring up two glasses. "Firewhisky is great, but nothing like the classics right?"

"You read my mind," Dean said, toasting Sam as he accepted the glass. They took a long drink and sighed appreciatively. "How are classes going for you?"

"Not bad," Sam said, shrugging. "Getting the fifth years ready for their O.W.L's. The seventh years for their N.E.W.T's and the fourth years Remus and I split so we split the work load as well. How about you?"

"About the same," Dean took another drink as he put another paper in the 'graded' pile. "Thought about asking Dumbledore to borrow Fawkes for a lesson. The seventh years could use an easy lesson, and phoenixes are pretty easy to teach about. The fifth years are going over Bowtruckles for the next few lessons."

"Actually, I was meaning to ask you about something," Sam said, recalling Severus's warning. "What have you been doing in the Forbidden Forest so late at night?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at this. He hadn't been aware anyone knew about his late night strolls. "Sorry, can't say." He shrugged. "I promised them."

"Them?" Sam asked. "Who are 'them'?"

But Dean pantomimed zipping his lips and Sam had to roll his eyes. They sat in silence for a good long while after that, drinking and grading papers until the young hours of the morning. When the clock read quarter past two, Sam placed the last paper onto the graded pile and leaned back in his chair. His head was buzzing slightly from the scotch, and he got slowly to his feet to judge his level of inebriation. In the chair opposite him, Dean had dozed off some minutes ago. He snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face and the older Winchester jerked awake. "Daisy Duke," he blurted out, looking around wildly.

"Simpson or Bach?" Sam asked, smiling.

"Scott," Dean said, blinking several times and glaring accusingly at the bottle of scotch. "There is no way that is still half-full."

Sam took out his wand and tapped the bottle, the amber liquid within rising to the surface. "Refilling Charm," he explained. "Unlimited alcohol, if you know how to do it."

"Sam, this place is trying to kill me," Dean said, running a hand down his face.


	24. Christmas in the Castle

The Christmas holiday was upon Hogwarts before Sam, Dean, Cas, or Crowley were ready for it. The students, however, were more than ready for it as each of them found their workload increasing in difficulty. "I swear, if one more student comes through those doors complaining about how they somehow messed up a spell or charm and somehow hurt themselves, I am going to turn them into a turkey and let the house-elves have at them."

Cas, on the other hand, was up to his neck with reports of students Charming muggle items to bring them back to their non-magic family members. This was, of course, very much against the rules as Muggles were not to have magical items due to their tendency to get into trouble. This meant, naturally, that Castiel and the other Muggle Studies professor were left to sort through each and every single one of the students' muggle artifacts. One student had cast an undetectable expansion charm on a purse that she had intended to give to her mother while another had put a Permanent Tickling Charm on a pair of trainers and was going to give them to a bully. "You can't use magic against them," Castiel told him sternly. "Find another way to exact your revenge, you are a clever boy Creevey."

"But Professor," Creevey protested. "It took me forever to Charm them!"

"You may have them back when you return," Castiel told him firmly. "Now move along, you are holding up the line."

A muffled bang came from a student's bag a few places back and Castiel beckoned them forward. "Alright," he said, gesturing at the bag. "What exploded?"

The student pulled out several articles of very singed clothing to reveal a deck of playing cards that was in perfect condition. In fact, if the clothes around it weren't burnt to a crisp, Castiel would have ignored it. He placed the deck of cards on the table and prodded it with his wand. "I wouldn't do that professor…" the student's voice trailed off. The deck of cards leapt into the air and a loud bang echoed through the clearing. There was a small hole in the table right above where the cards now laid smoking in the snow, still in perfect condition. Castiel cast a slow look over at the student who had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Tried to make my Muggle mates from back home a pack of Exploding Snap cards, but I messed up the charm."

"You could have hurt someone," Castiel told him sternly. He looked over the rest of the line. "This is your last warning. If any of you are caught with any Charmed items that aren't supposed to be, I a giving you a month's worth of detention when you get back."

Suddenly a large amount of students seemed to remember something they had left back in their dorms and they departed the line. The former angel turned back to the students who had remained and gestured for the next one to come forward.

"Looks like Cas has his hands full," Dean said, peering down at the courtyard from his room. He laughed quietly and turned back to Sam. "So, any plans for the holidays on your end? Can't exactly do the usual."

"You mean, robbing another family's Christmas presents and saying they were from Dad?" Sam laughed. "No, I guess we can't. I hadn't really thought of anything. What about you?"

"Booze, booze, and more booze," Dean said, starting the holiday early with a swig from a glass full of amber liquid. He caught Sam's disapproving look and frowned. "What?"

"Come on man," Sam laughed. "We're in the wizarding world, we-."

"Bobby," Dean said, cutting Sam off, staring intently at the fire.

"Bobby?" Sam asked, frowning. He followed Dean's gaze and, to his amazement and disbelief, saw Bobby's head staring at them from the fireplace.

"What are you two idjits doing?" He asked, frowning at them. "I've been trying to figure out what in the Sam Hill's been going on? One day I'm in heaven reading the classics and the next thing I know I'm wearing these robes and have a big stick in my hand."

"Wait, _Bobby?!_ " Dean asked, thrown for a loop. He had expected the grizzly old man to be another trick of the Guide. "Our Bobby?"

"Did you get hit in the head, of course it's me!" He growled. "Who else would it be? What's going on here?"

"Uh, Bobby, where are you?" Sam asked, kneeling in front of the fireplace. "You are using the Floo Network, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Bobby nodded in confirmation, disturbing the coals and sending a few scattering in front of the hearth. "I'm at my house. At least, that's what that Guide told me."

"You've seen the Guide too?" Dean asked. "How?"

"She popped up in front of me when I got here and explained her little trick. Thought it was a joke at first. Tried everything to get out, even did once. But she just pulled me right back in. So I stopped trying to escape and started figuring out what's going on here. I did a little reading and saw you two idjits were teaching at some place called Hogwash-."

"Hogwarts." Sam and Dean corrected simultaneously.

Bobby sent them a long-suffering look that caused both Sam and Dean to grin over. "Whatever it's called. It's good to see you boys."

"Yeah, you too Bobby," Dean smiled. "Well, hell, it's almost Christmas. What do you say we have a little get together? Sam figured out a spell to give us unlimited alcohol, and the food here is amazing."

"That's easy for you to say," Bobby said grumpily. "I don't know how to get to wherever you are."

"Sam?" Dean said, turning to his brother. "Would the Floo Network work here?"

"I mean, I guess?" Sam said, thinking. He had just started reading _Hogwarts, A History_ but had not yet come across anything regarding the network. "I know you can't disapparate within so many feet of the grounds. Maybe it's the same for the Floo Network."

"How long have you two been here?" Bobby asked. "You sure know a lot for just two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Dean asked slowly. "Bobby, Sam and I have been here for months."

"Months?" Bobby repeated incredulously. "We need to do some catching up. I'm going to see if I can figure out a way for me to get to you two. You two stay put."

"Wasn't planning on leaving anyways," Dean shrugged. Bobby's face disappeared from the fireplace and the elder Winchester turned to look at the younger. "Well, this place just got a lot more interesting."

Sam opened his mouth to speak and then started laughing. "Just imagine when Bobby meets Severus," he chuckled.

That brought a smile to Dean's face as well. "Oh, we have to make that happen." He agreed immediately. "Those two are perfect for each other."

"Why do you think the Guide brought him here?" Sam asked once the mirth had subsided. "Just for laughs?"

"Look, Sam," Dean said, taking a seat. "We both agreed that this place isn't so bad. I'm just gonna take our Bobby being back as a win."

"Fair enough," Sam said, taking a seat opposite his brother and conjuring up a glass. "Where's Lucy?"

"Not a clue," Dean said, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I figured since it's the holidays she can roam around the castle a bit. Eat a few of the mice that are roaming around here."

"Dean there are students here!" Sam protested. "They don't all go home for the holidays."

Dean waved a hand dismissively. "She's trained. Hagrid gave a lesson on basilisks and so did I. Anyone who is still in the castle knows it's her."

This was news to Sam. "How do you know they'll know it's her?"

"I put a bow on her," Dean said simply. "It's her fault, really, she hates the thing. But she's smart enough to know that eating owls is _bad._ "

"She ate another one?" Sam asked.

"She ate seven that I know of," Dean sighed. "Dumbledore was pissed. I had to promise it wouldn't happen again and he is taking the cost of them out of my salary."

"You do know that Lucy _isn't_ a dog, right?" Sam asked, a single laugh escaping him.

"A dog is boring," Dean shrugged. "You can't tell me Lucy hasn't grown on you."


	25. Christmas in the Castle Part 2

"Hey, where are you guys at?" Dean shouted, nearly tripping over a branch and cursing. "I brought the stuff you asked for. I even had the house elves give me a bunch of food to bring with me, but it's gonna be cold if you don't show up!"

"Hello, Dean Winchester," came a voice that Dean had only heard once before.

"Magorian," Dean said, turning to face the chestnut centaur. "Been a while, did you need something?"

"Not at current, though that is subject enough to change," the centaur said gravely. "I came to offer a word of warning to you. Those that you come to meet, they are not the sort you should associate with. They are, in a word, abominations."

"Yeah, well, I never asked you did I?" Dean snapped. The first time that the centaurs had appeared to him it had been Magorian and Bane. They had offered the same word of warning and it had been just as annoying then. Dean has responded in much the same way and Bane had been very clear in his desire to turn him into a pin cushion. Thankfully Magorian had put an end to that flow of conversation before it had progressed much further and the centaurs left him in peace. "Look, they don't bother you and don't cause problems."

"Be that as it may, it was predetermined that I need warn you once more," Magorian told him, inclining his head slightly towards the stars. "Be well, Dean Winchester."

The centaur said nothing more, disappearing into the trees as quickly as he had arrived. "Quite the characters, aren't they?" Asked a familiar rough voice. "I don't see their issue with us."

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged. He set the sack full of food and books onto the ground and began pulling them out. A roast chicken was pulled from the bag and was just as quickly plucked from his hands. "Hey, easy, I like my hands attached to me."

"Sorry," another voice, a somewhat higher pitched one this time, said sheepishly. "Haven't done well hunting lately."

"You know-," Dean began.

"No, Dean." A third voice said firmly, sadly. "I know what you were about to say, and you know our thoughts on the subject. The humans would not accept us as we are now, and we should not have to change for them. The fact that you _do_ accept us for what we are is no small feat in of itself. Our very parents turned their backs on us, why would the rest of the world be any different?"

"Hey man, I get it." Dean shrugged in defeat. "But the option is always there, Morgan."

"Star will be old enough to make that decision for herself in the coming year," Morgan said, his voice rough as ever. "If she chooses to walk amongst humans, that is very much her choice. For now, she is in my care."

"I do not need anyone to watch out for me," Star complained, ripping apart the remnants of the chicken. "I am perfectly capable of watching out for myself."

"Well, if you three do change your minds I spoke to Dumbledore about you joining. It will be rough at first, but you have the option." Dean said. He saw the third of their group, Dak, about to say something and he held up a hand to forestall it. "Look, it's your choice no one is making you do anything. But I do need to get back, where are those books I brought last time?"

Morgan disappeared and returned a few moments later with the books in his mouth. He dropped them in front of Dean and said, "Sorry about the marks on the cover. Hard to keep things in good condition in the forest."

"That librarian is going to kill me," Dean muttered, picking them up and putting them in the sack. "Try to keep these ones a little less ripped up, okay? I don't feel like dealing with some crazy old woman with magic."

"We shall do our utmost," Morgan said, lowering his head. "Thank you as always."

"So look, before I go," Dean said, throwing the sack over his shoulder. "Christmas is coming up soon. Call me old fashioned but kids shouldn't be alone on Christmas."

"What's one more?" Dak barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, no," Dean shook his head. "Not happening. You have five days until Christmas. So in five days your asses are going to wait by Hagrid's cabin and I am going to come get you. I'll make sure to get you some clothes if you'd prefer to-."

"Thank you, Dean." Morgan interrupted. "We will be there at Hagrid's house, but let's not get ahead of ourselves okay?"

"If you say so," Dean said, waving goodbye to them. "Be there early morning."

"We will," Star promised.

Dean made his way out of the Forbidden Forest, wondering what exactly he should get those three for Christmas. They weren't exactly the sort of kids you could get a laptop or whatever the 1993 equivalent was. This line of thought took him all the way to the castle courtyard. He had just walked through the Great Hall doors when he bumped into Crowley. "Ah, Squirrel," the healer said in way of greeting. "Enjoying the break are we?"

"Crowley," Dean said. "Figured you would have kicked rocks as soon as you could have, with the students gone and everything."

"Oh, I have done my share of exploring already," the demon reassured him, pulling a flask from his pocket and offering it to Dean. "Take a drink of this. It's not my preference, but they don't do much aging here."

Dean did just that and immediately coughed, a stream of blue sparks dancing from his mouth. "What the hell is that?" he asked, blinking away tears. He had only taken a single sip and yet he was already feeling the effects. "Did you just roofie me?"

"Oh please," Crowley scoffed. "Like I would need to resort to such things. No, this little drink was fermented using dragon's breath. Or something to that effect. Not quite sure what you'd call it to be honest, the chap I bought this off seemed insistent that it was good."

"That tastes like blueberries," Dean said, shaking his head. The effects of the drink were already starting to dissipate. "Blueberries… and pineapple?"

"Really, is that what it tastes like?" Crowley said, eyeing his flask curiously. "Haven't tasted it yet. I was planning on asking Feathers, but you worked just as well."

"You just gave me a drink that you didn't know anything about?" Dean demanded. "What if it poisoned me?"

Crowley pulled a small stone from his back pocket and held it up between his middle and pointer finger, waving it slightly. "If it had poisoned you I would have just given you this and gone along my way."

"What's that?" Dean asked, eyeing the little rock suspiciously.

"A bezoar," Crowley said, storing it back in his pocket. "Don't ask where it's from, it's better that you don't know, but it would have cured you of most kinds of poisons instantly."

"And if it hadn't been able to cure me?"

"Well if that were the case I suspect you would be a small pile of liquid Squirrel on the floor," Crowley said, taking a drink of the liquid. He breathed out a stream of blue sparks and nodded appreciatively. "Blueberries and pineapple, bit fruity but it goes down smooth enough."

"Crowley, don't ever change," Dean said with a sigh, shaking his head with a small smile. Truthfully, since they were no longer constantly at odds, Crowley's constant mischievous nature was something he had grown fond of. The accented bastard still had the ability to get under his skin like no one else, but that too had been something they had all gotten used to. "Do you know if Bobby has shown up yet?"

"Bobby?" Crowley asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "What's that angry old men doing here?"

"Evidently the Guide brought him here too a couple weeks ago," Dean said, having forgotten that they had not told Crowley about this development. To be fair it had only happened the previous day and the demon had been nowhere to be found.

"Do be a dear and make sure that he doesn't try to shoot me when he sees me," Crowley said, taking another drink. "Dying would be terribly inconvenient. A real bad start to the holidays if you will."

"You'll be fine," Dean said. "Any plans for Christmas?"

"Why, yes, I was planning on decorating the castle with bits and baubles and teaching all the house-elves Christmas carols so that the students who are staying have a lovely Christmas," Crowley said, rolling his eyes. "It's Christmas, Dean, the only way I celebrated Christmas was by wrapping a demon in barbed wire and setting him on fire."

"Well, Sam, Cas, Bobby, and I will probably be drinking in Sam's room." Dean said uncertainly. "If you want to join, well, you are welcome to join us."

Crowley seemed to consider this. "I will see you there then," Crowley said. The demon said a quick farewell and departed, returning to the hospital wing where his quarters were located.


	26. Christmas in the Castle Part 3

Sam and Dean were in tears. They were out of breath. Their heads were between their legs as they struggled to gain some semblance of breath. And they were next to a very clearly annoyed Bobby. Evidently trying to blend in with the norm of this world, Bobby had shown up in a black wizard's robe and matching pointy hat. The sight of the grizzled old hunter sporting such odd clothing compared to his normal flannel and jeans was enough to reduce Sam and Dean into tears of sheer laughter. They had met him at the castle entrance and, while everyone else undoubtedly found Bobby's attire perfectly normal, Sam and Dean could only bring themselves to stop laughing for just a few moments before looking at him and bursting into mirth once more. Bobby glared at them and pulled his wand out of his pocket, tapping it menacingly against his leg and causing red sparks to shoot from the end. "If you two don't stop laughing you are going to spend Christmas as a pair of guinea pigs."

Understanding this as a very serious threat, the Winchesters immediately stopped laughing, though their stomachs still ached from the effort. Now, with that out of their system, they embraced their old mentor in a tight embrace. "It's good to see you boys," Bobby said, his voice somewhat hoarser than normal. For a moment Dean thought it might have been because Bobby was crying, but when they released one another, his eyes were clear from tears. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you two idjits here."

"Trust me Bobby, the feeling is mutual," Sam said, still smiling. "How did you get here? And where's your stuff?"

"My stuff?" Bobby repeated. "Back at my house, in the States, why?"

"We just sorta figured that, you know, you would be staying here." Dean explained, clearly disappointed by this.

"I would love to, but I have a job here too," Bobby said, suddenly uncomfortable. "And, well…"

Sam and Dean leaned in expectantly, waiting for Bobby to further explain himself. "And?" Dean prompted.

"Karen's here," Bobby said gruffly. " _My_ Karen. Knows every little detail about me, except for the fact that she… died. Knows about this world too."

"Wait, Karen, as in your dead _wife_ Karen?" Dean said incredulously. "How?"

"Hell if I know," Bobby shrugged again. "Believe me, I didn't believe it either at first. Thought she was some kind of illusion and some Djinn had put the whammy on me. That's why I tried so hard to get out of here at first, didn't want to be some monster's midnight snack. After I managed to get out once that Guide showed up and explained what she had done.

"So you really managed to get out, back to our world?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No, not back to our world," Bobby shook his head. "Looked like it though. I figured out a spell, a really old one I pulled from some ancient book I managed to get my hands on, and created a portal to another world. Stepped through and it looked like I was in New York City. But there were creatures flying around, these massive worm looking things, and a massive portal above me that they were coming out of. Caught a glimpse of some massive green thing coming at me before the Guide grabbed me and drug me back here to this world. That's when she explained herself and told me that all other ways out of this world were now sealed off."

"Why does that sound familiar?" Dean wondered to himself, thinking about the world Bobby had been to. He shook his head, storing the information away for another time, and clapped Bobby on the shoulder. "Well, you are here now that's what matters. How did you get away from Karen for the holidays?"

"She's off seeing her sister," Bobby explained. "Back in our world her sister didn't give a rat's ass about me and apparently that transferred to being over here anyways. Besides, I needed to get away for a little while."

"What, you getting tired of having her around?" Dean asked, genuinely curious.

"Not hardly," Bobby barked out a short laugh. "She practically kicked me out to get me to come see you two, apparently I've been suffocating her."

"Hey, can't blame you for that." Dean nodded.

"Let's continue this away from prying eyes," Sam suggested, glancing meaningfully to a small group of students that were coming towards them with star-struck eyes. Even halfway through the school year, students were still coming up to Sam and Dean to sign whatever item that they happened to want their insignia on. For Dean it was usually something Quidditch related. For Sam, it was unfailingly always the same shirtless picture.

Sam and Dean led the way to Sam's quarters, bombarding Bobby with questions the entire way. "So what do you do for work anyways?" Dean asked first.

"Same thing as in our world," Bobby shrugged. "I'm just paid for it now. Only difference now is that the creatures who are actually intelligent I'm supposed to bring in if I can. It's a lot different, but I'm sure even you two idjits have figured that out. Kitsune, vampires, werewolves, they all have their own protection clauses and such now. There are still a few monsters that are kill on sight. Wendigos and the like. A few I haven't tangled with too, like these little fairy things called doxxies."

"Yeah, get used to that," Sam advised. "Who have you been hunting for?"

"The American magic government," Bobby said, his tone clearly displeased. "They send me out on hunts."

"What, don't like working for them?"

"I don't like working for anyone," Bobby said, stepping through the doorway to Sam's quarters. "But it's the principle. I always sort of enjoyed figuring out what sort of monster I was dealing with. Now they have a whole division of bookworms doing that for me. Takes all the fun out of things."

"Well, if it's not my favorite geezer," Crowley asked, lounging back with his feet on Sam's desk and a glass of the liquor he had given Dean earlier. In the glass blue sparks popped up from the liquid, danced along the edge of the glass, and then leaped back inside almost in perfect sync. "Care for a drink?"

"Crowley!" Bobby said, reaching for his wand. The ex-demon didn't bother reaching for his own, opting to instead take a drink. He stared down the length of Bobby's wand to the old man and raised an eyebrow before casting his gaze over to Sam and Dean. "Care to tell your elderly friend to put that stick away?"

"What are you doing here?" Bobby demanded.

"Easy, Bobby," Dean said, putting a hand on his arm and lowering the wand. "Crowley is on our side here, he's not even a demon here."

"It's true," Crowley said, batting his eyelashes at Bobby as if to prove his eyes weren't black. "I'm as human as you are, alcohol tolerance not included."

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked, gazing around Sam's room.

A groan came from somewhere beside Sam's bed, signaling Castiel's position. The three hunters filed further into the room and saw the trench coat placed over Castiel like a blanket and a shoe placed under his head for a pillow. "What did you do to him?" Sam demanded, kneeling to examine his friend.

"Did we not just establish that I am, in point of fact, on your side here?" Crowley wondered. It was then that Dean noticed the slight slur in the demon's words. Was Crowley actually drunk?

"Did you two…?" Dean saw a glass still clutched in Castiel's hand and that answered his question before it could be voiced. "We've only been gone for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, how much did you two drink?"

Crowley's answer was to slowly slide down in his chair until it seemed as though he would fall onto the floor. Just before he did Sam and Dean managed to catch him and drag him over to where Castiel rested. Sam conjured up two pillows and, tossing aside the shoe that Crowley had apparently placed under Castiel's head, and put them under the angel and demon's respective heads. After that they pulled the blanket from Sam's bed and threw it over them.

Bobby sat on Crowley's vacated chair and was now sipping at the liquor. He blinked several times and looked down suspiciously at it. "What in the hell is this?"

"Dragonfire fermented alcohol," Dean said, falling onto Sam's bed and using a summoning charm to bring Crowley's flask to him. He summoned a pair of glasses, filled them both, placed a refilling charm on them, and then handed one to Sam. "Well, here's to the three of us being together again."

Bobby and Sam raised their glasses and echoed the toast before they drank.


	27. Christmas in the Castle Part 4

Having Bobby around again, and with the holidays just around the corner, seemed to have pushed a Sam and Dean prank war to new heights. Sam now found himself in Dean's room, his wand out as he quickly place several hexes around his brother's room. This was in retaliation to, after a long night of drinking with Bobby, finding that Dean had hexed his bed to dump him onto the floor every time he laid down and got comfortable. When his brother had done this, he hadn't a clue. But Sam knew that revenge was not just due, it was obligatory. Dean and Bobby had gotten up early that morning, _how_ they had gotten up after drinking until the wee hours of the day was beyond Sam, and gone off to Diagon Alley for something or other.

A slithering sound came from behind Sam and he turned to see Lucy sliding into the room. She raised her head, her forked tongue darting out, and then seemed to recognize Sam. True to his word, Dean had tied a bright pink bow around her and she had not yet managed to remove it. Taking pity on the serpent, Sam removed the Sticking Charm his brother had placed on the bow and untied it from the basilisk. "Don't tell Dean," Sam said, turning back to continue hexing the room.

 _Of course not,_ the reply made Sam jump, totally not expecting anything in response.

He turned to face Lucy, who had coiled onto the bed and was now looking at him expectantly, and cautiously said: "D-d-did you just talk?"

 _If I didn't, that would make your question redundant don't you think?_ Lucy asked pointedly.

Sam took a mental step back, totally unprepared to deal with any amount of sass from a snake. He opened his mouth and then closed it, gathering his thoughts. Parsletongues were a huge part of the Series (Sam couldn't call them the Harry Potter series anymore as he saw Harry regularly and it just felt weird) but he had never thought about the possibility of him being one. It made sense, the more he thought about it, considering what his Patronus and House were, but it was still unexpected. He thought about what to say to Lucy, the etiquette of speaking to a snake was never truly covered in the books especially since the only snake that really had a conversation with Harry had been the one from the first book in the zoo. The basilisk from the second had spoken, but that had not been to the student directly. "So how are you?" Sam asked finally, opting for polite formality.

 _Well enough,_ Lucy answered, resting her head on a coil. _I've been exploring the castle these past few days. Quite a place this, and so many rats to enjoy. Did you know there was another basilisk here? He's dead now, but he was._

"Uh, yeah," Sam nodded, "They killed him last year." He was dumbfounded. Lucy spoke eloquently enough, and he could understand her voice just as easily he could someone speaking English.

 _It happens._ Lucy seemed to shrug using one large coil. _Now, what were you doing to the master's room?_

"You mean Dean?" Sam asked, "I was hexing his room."

 _Ah. Well, don't let me disturb you._ Lucy tucked her head under one coil, effectively terminating all further conversation.

Sam quickly finished his tasks, continually glancing over his shoulder to steal wary glances at Lucy lest she decide to stop him from his objective. Surprisingly she seemed to have no issue with his task and did not say another word to him the entire time that he was working. He stood by the entrance to Dean's room, admiring his handiwork though of course none of the spells were yet visible.

"Hello Sam," came Castiel's gravelly voice from directly behind him. For the second time in the same hour, Sam jumped in surprise. He blew out a sigh as he beheld the frowning and glaring face of Castiel. "What are you doing in Dean's room?"

"Erm, Cas," Sam said, leaning back slightly due to the angel's proximity. "Personal space applies here too."

"I see," Castiel said, taking a half step back and swaying slightly. "Do you know where Dean is?"

His words were still slightly slurred together and Sam had to fight back a short laugh. "Cas, are you still drunk?"

"No." he answered curtly, glaring at Sam. He then sighed and said, "Yes. I require Dean's hangover cure."

"Cas, Dean's hangover cure is just whiskey," Sam told him consolingly. "Dean's cure to being hungover is to drink less and less until you progressively get less drunk. That, or basically give yourself an IV of straight coffee."

"No, I believe an IV would likely kill me as I am now," Castiel said, taking Sam's exaggeration as a serious suggestion. "I believe I am going to need more alcohol then. Have you seen Crowley? Or do you have any in your room?"

"Wait, I thought Crowley was with you?" Sam asked, suddenly wary. A potentially still drunk Crowley was dangerous. A hungover Crowley was potentially lethal depending on what annoyed him. "We need to find him."

"You find him," Castiel growled, shouldering past Sam and falling onto Dean's bed.

 _Excuse you!_ Lucy hissed as she was thrown from her spot on the end of the bed.

Taking a moment to be thankful, for multiple reasons, he had opted not to hex Dean's bed, Sam stepped into the room and turned Castiel onto his side just in case. "Keep an eye on him, would you?" Sam asked Lucy even as Castiel began to snore loudly. "I need to go find Crowley."

 _If you mean your friend with the funny accent, he is in the kitchen,_ Lucy told him as she repositioned herself. _And I will ensure that this one does not die. Yet._

Sam took this as a positive sign and raced off to the kitchens, unsure of what Crowley could be up to. He tickled the pear of the painting over the kitchen entrance and, once the painting had swung open, leapt inside and nearly collided with a house elf who happened to be passing by. Instantly the little elf bowed low. "Hello there Professor!" she squeaked happily, "Nice to see so many of you today, how can I help you?"

"Oh, sorry," Sam said, "Have you seen Crowley anywhere?"

"Of course," she squeaked, grabbing Sam by the hand and pulling him over to a corner where Crowley had been propped up on a stool. The house elves had apparently fashioned him a blanket by knitting together several cloth placemats and throwing the blanket over him. Sam resisted the urge to laugh, instead turning back to the small congregation of house elves that had formed behind him. "Uh, what happened?" he asked, jerking a thumb towards Crowley.

"Mister Crowley came down to us early this morning, still a little drunk sir," one house elf squeaked, wringing his pillow case tunic in his hands as though he was worried he was in some sort of trouble. "He told us to fix his hangover or get him more to drink, so we started to bring him lots of pumpkin juice. After a little while he fell over and fell asleep so we picked him up and put him in the corner."

"He didn't cause you too much trouble, did he?" Sam asked, relieved nothing worse had transpired.

"Of course not sir!" the first house elf sam had spoken to said happily. She bowed low again and soon enough all the others followed suit. "It is always our pleasure to help the Professors of Hogwarts you see!"

Sam thanked them again and, even though he protested mildly, allowed them to load him up with all sorts of snacks and baked goods before he left. He was bringing them all back to his room when he bumped into Remus going around a corner. Several muffins went rolling across the floor but Sam and Lupin managed to catch most of the food. "So sorry about that, Sam," Lupin said, placing the food back into Sam's arms. "Didn't see you."

"No problem, Remus," Sam said, smiling. "I had too much for me to eat anyways. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, enjoying our little break from classes," Lupin shrugged. "I'm afraid that, with my condition, the holidays are never really the happiest time of year for me. My family isn't very understanding you see."

Sam frowned hard at this. "Well, a very good friend of ours just stopped by for the holidays, you should join us." He told him firmly, his tone indicating he would not take 'no' for an answer.

To his surprise, no argument was forthcoming. "I think I will take you up on that Sam," Lupin told him. "I daresay I have not spent a Christmas with friendly faces in a very long time. Are we doing a gift exchange then?"

This brought the crashing realization to Sam that he had not yet gotten Dean a single thing yet. "Actually, I was just about to go shopping," Sam said, already wondering what he could get Dean and Bobby.


	28. Christmas in the Castle Part 5

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting around the Gryffindor common room enjoying the relative quiet that, for once, described the place. Neville, who was leaving Christmas morning for his grandmother's house, walked nervously down the boys' dormitory with a Charms and Transfiguration book under his arm. "Oh, hello," he said, making a beeline for the porthole exit. "Have a good Christmas."

"Neville, it's Christmas break," Ron rolled his eyes. "Why the bloody hell are you carting around books now?"

"Well, I figured it would be a good chance to get the library to myself…" Neville said, looking down determinedly as a blush rose up his cheeks. He didn't truly want them to know that he was going to study with his new Slytherin friends. If they knew that then, undoubtedly, Harry and Ron at least would question him or make his life miserable in some way. They, at least, had Hermione to help them. She always seemed too busy for Neville to ask for help and, besides, at the rate those three got into trouble he wasn't sure he wanted to be too close to them.

Unfortunately this was the wrong reason to give Hermione. She immediately brightened and rose from her seat, nearly skipping over to Neville with joy. "That's a great idea Neville," she said happily, pushing through the porthole and pulling Neville with her.

Neville tried stammering out half a dozen reasons as to why he would prefer to study alone, but Hermione wasn't having any of it. She dismissed his concerns with her usual good cheer, misunderstanding that he wasn't just being kind. They were at the library far sooner than Neville would have liked, already dreading the encounter that was bound to happen.

In the library several of the desks had been pushed together and a group of a dozen or so students, primarily Slytherin, were sitting around laughing and joking with one another. Hermione spied them and then made to pull Neville to their own table. "Come on, Neville," she said firmly. "Let's sit over here."

It was then that one of the Slytherin sixth years spied Neville and smiled at him, rising from her seat and walking over to where Neville was resisting Hermione's pull. "Neville, glad you came!" she smiled, taking the books from under his arm. "Good thing you finally remembered to bring this, you pretty much have Cheering Charms down. I can't really help if I don't know what you are working on."

"Thanks, Triss," he said in a low voice, all too aware of the piercing look currently burning through the back of his head courtesy of Hermione. "'preciate it."

"You're Hermione Granger, right?" Triss asked pleasantly, offering a hand in greeting. Hermione tentatively took it and Triss sent her a slight smile. "If you'd like, you are more than welcome to join us. We've been helping Neville with Transfiguration and Charms. In return he's been helping us get through Herbology. He's absolutely brilliant at it, did you know that?"

"Of course," Hermione said at once, evidently taking this as a challenge when it wasn't. "Erm, not to be rude, but why are you helping him?"

Triss shrugged. "He said he needed help, so we're helping."

Now Triss took a willing Neville by the arm and sat him down at the spare seat beside her, leaving Hermione standing alone very confused and very suspicious. Triss opened one of Neville's books and pushed it in front of him. "It's been a while since I've gone over these Charms," she admitted, wincing good naturedly. "So bear with me, it might take me some time to figure them out again."

"Oh, are those third year charms?" Rookwood, one of the other Slytherins at the table asked eagerly, pulling the book in front of him. He laughed and shook his head. "I loved this year, the charms were great for exams. The Cheering Charm is good too, gives you a great feeling going into exams and that helps loads, trust me. But, you probably should start with just Banishing Charms."

"Actually we just covered Banishing Charms," Hermione spoke up from where she had been standing. "Right Neville?"

"I never actually managed one," he said in a low voice, staring down at the table in embarrassment. "I just chucked my pillow when no one was looking."

This seemed to stun Hermione into silence. But Rookwood clapped Neville bracingly on the shoulder. "It's all right mate," he said confidently. "You couldn't do a Cheering Charm at all remember? Bit of practice, all it takes."

Neville heard an aggravated huff and the sound of feet stamping out of the library and knew, without looking, that Hermione had just left the library. A few of the people at the table, a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin, watched her go with some mixture of concern and curiosity. "What do you reckon her problem is?"

"Probably the fact that Neville is hanging with Slytherins?" the Ravenclaw offered, returning to his book. "To be fair, when you lot offered to study with me I was sure you were just setting me up to hex me."

"Aw, hell, he's onto us," Triss teased, snatching Neville's book back from Rookwood. "But Rookwood is right. You don't want to fall too far behind."

"Well that goes for you too, right?" Neville blurted out, reaching for Triss' and Rookwood's Herbology books. "You've been helping me only the past couple days, it's my turn to help you. What are you going over now? Flesh-eating plants?"

In the hallway, Lupin and Sam listened in as Neville began to tutor the others at the table about the finer points of Herbology. Lupin was smiling as Neville went around the table to address the difficulties each student was having. "You know," he told Sam in a low voice as they moved away from the library and towards the entrance. "I think that Neville may very well have a future in teaching. He seems to have a good grasp of the finer points."

"It helps that Triss is among the kindest students that attend school here," Sam said, smiling.

The two professors wandered down the courtyard and beyond the edge of the school grounds to where Apparation was possible. They turned on the spot and appeared in the center of Hogsmeade, the village alive with shoppers and the like going about their business. Several of the older students saw them appear and waved eagerly at them before returning to their various activities. "I must confess, Sam, picking gifts is not at all my area of expertise." Remus said as they strolled up and down Hogsmeade. "Particularly as I have very little notion as to what any of the others, or you for that matter, would possibly want for Christmas."

"Yeah, well, Dean isn't really hard to buy for," Sam said, peering into a pet shop window and admiring the selection of owls they had. He dismissed the idea a few moments later when he remembered Lucy's vendetta against them. He stopped short and thought about this statement for a moment.

Christmas had always been important to Dean. Sam was fond of the holiday as well, but not so much as his brother was. No matter how little they had, or how much danger they were in, Dean had always made sure that their holiday was a happy one. Or, at least, as close to happy as he could make it. It had been such ever since they were kids and he had stolen a little girl's Christmas presents for Sam and claimed they had been from their father.

Sam was adamant: he would make sure to get something that Dean would love. His first idea had been fairly obvious: an impala. But just as quickly as that idea had presented itself he had thrown it out. Dean loved that car, but it was only _that_ car he loved. If Sam had gotten him another one Dean was just as like to throw it into a Vanishing Cabinet as he was to keep it. Thus, Sam tended to agree with Remus. Christmas shopping was difficult.

"I heard you have been teaching Harry Potter the Patronus Charm," Sam said as he turned away from the pet shop. "Has he made any progress?"

"Actually, I haven't yet started." Remus said, matching Sam's pace as they continued their stroll. "I promised to him that we would begin after the Christmas holiday. Considering how affected he is by them, I deemed it prudent to instruct him on how to defend himself."

"Smart choice," Sam agreed. They lapsed into silence and Sam was content to simply walk.

"Perhaps Zonko's?" Lupin asked, stopping before the joke shop. "Dean seems the type to enjoy a good practical joke."

"I have worked very hard to make sure that Dean _never_ learns about Zonko's." Sam said determinedly. If his brother learned of a magical joke shop, well, he knew that he would never be able to trust so much as a glass of water ever again. When Fred and George inevitably opened up _their_ joke shop his life would become hell, especially considering the way they seemed to worship Dean. "I would appreciate it if you helped me keep it that way."

"He won't hear a word of it from me," Lupin smiled. "You said that Dean isn't hard to shop for, so why are we looking so hard?"

"I hate Christmas shopping." Sam said in answer, scowling. He wasn't a perfectionist, not by any means, but he absolutely intended to get Dean a good gift now that they actually had money available to them.

 **Sorry for the delayed update, been a tad busy with things. I hope you enjoy this, I played a bit with the perspective. If you enjoy this, I will be happy to continue to show more student perspectives. In addition, would you, my wonderful readers, want me to speed up the time line? I have at least ten more chapters consisting of Book Three. I also have a summer arc planned for the crew. But, if you would prefer, I am happy to speed things right up to the TriWizard Tournament. And, for my last question, that pesky Guide is up to her tricks. So, who would you like to see brought in from the Supernaturalverse next?**

 **I hope you all are wonderful.**

 **Yours, Hallowed**


	29. Christmas

Explosions and jets of light were everywhere. Dean rushed around a corner, breathing heavily, with his wand at his side. He felt something stinging his eyes and wiped away blood with the back of his hand. Another explosion came from behind him and the wall he had been hiding behind shattered outwards, sending him flying across the hallway. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge the cobwebs that threatened to smother his vision. The cause of said explosion, a massive club fashioned from an entire tree, pulled itself back from the hole it had created. Moments later it was replaced by a massive, ugly head. Dean backed up rapidly as a large hand shoved through the hole and slammed down onto the space he had been moments before. He didn't bother trying to fight the giant, it would have been pointless. He _had_ to find Sam. They had been separated after the bridge had fallen.

A scream, a horrendously pain-filled scream, came from a classroom before him and Dean didn't hesitate to rush in to find the source. He was a moment too late. Just as he passed through the blown-open doors, the two masked Death Eaters simultaneously made slashing movements through the air. Charlie Bradbury, whom they had been torturing at their own amusement, collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Two massive gashes ran on either side of her chest. Her eyes stared at Dean, perhaps the last thing she had seen was his face as he tried to come to her rescue. But they were lifeless now, just as lifeless as the three Death Eaters that Dean saw strewn about the room. But Charlie, the girl whom he loved like a little sister, was dead.

Dean didn't know who the two Death Eaters were, hidden behind their masks as they were, and he didn't care at that moment. They were clearly in bad shape, one robe clearly having been set alight at some point, and the other with blood covering his arms. They raised their wands simultaneously, but Dean was faster. He Disarmed them before they could even speak the first syllable to a spell or hex. Their wands went soaring out a window, and Dean watched them go.

In a gesture of surrender, they raised their hands in the air. But Dean didn't see them. His eyes were fixed on Charlie, and his heart was breaking in his chest all over again. Seeing her dead once, that had been hell. But a second time, that was even worse. Very slowly, he raised his eyes to the two culprits. He tossed aside his own wand, the wood clattering across the ground and rolling into a corner. "You tortured her," Dean said, no inflection in his voice. This was a statement of fact.

"Look here, Dolohov," one of them sneered from beneath his mask. "A professor come to avenge his student. How noble. Well, come on then. Why'd you throw your wand?"

"I don't need that," Dean said, drawing a silver knife from his robes. "That would be too quick."

Dean awoke with a start, just as he had begun to carve the Death Eaters. He was drenched in sweat, despite the cold air that assaulted him the moment he awoke. His breathing was hard and fast, almost as though he had actually been in that battle. He quickly dressed and was about to throw open his door when Sam barged in, his arms laden with wrapped gifts.

It was then that Dean remembered where he was, and what day it was. The dream was still in his thoughts, but he now understood it as just that. A dream. Sam, naturally, saw the state his brother was in and dropped the presents onto his bed. "What's wrong?" he asked, glancing around the room for some sort of visual cue.

"Nothing, nothing," Dean said, forcing a smile. "Bad dream is all."

"Dean, you look like you've seen…" Sam had been about to say a ghost, but then he remembered the fact that Dean and Sir Nicholas got on very well. "A wendigo."

"It's nothing, man." Dean said firmly, dismissing the issue with a finality in his voice. Charlie wasn't even here, the dream was just that: a dream. "You know, Charlie would have loved this place."

"Yeah," Sam said slowly, wondering what sort of dream involving Charlie could have sparked that statement. "She and Granger would be best friends."

"You aren't wrong there," Dean laughed quietly. He eyes the pile of presents curiously and then looked back at Sam. "All for me?"

"No, not all for you," Sam laughed. "I woke up the others and told them to meet here. Except Crowley, he wasn't around."

"You know, I really have to wonder where the hell he goes," Dean said. "I'll be right back, I need to go meet someone."

"Dude, it's Christmas, who are you meeting?" Sam asked, the puzzle of Dean's continued mystery friends still vexing him.

His brother didn't answer, rushing out of the room without a second thought. A slithering sound came from beneath the bed and, a moment later, Lucy slithered out. _Hello,_ she said pleasantly. _Has he stopped all that tossing and turning then?_

"Uh, yeah," Sam nodded. "You, uh, you didn't happen to catch what he was dreaming about, did you?"

 _Funny enough, I didn't ask._ Lucy said, slithering out of the room with all the abruptness of her master.

Sam wasn't alone in the room for more than five minutes when Bobby and Remus strode through the door. They, too, had gifts in their arms. "Happy Christmas!" Remus said, smiling with genuine joy at Sam. "Shall we drop our presents on the bed then?"

"Sure," Sam said, summoning a few plush armchairs from thin air as he vacated the bed. "Merry Christmas to you both!"

"Doesn't feel quite like Christmas without any wendigos, banshees, or revenants to sort out," Bobby said, taking a seat after he dropped his presents onto the bed.

"I must say, that does sound like an interesting Christmas," Remus admitted, taking a seat next to Bobby. He greeted Castiel when the former angel strode through the door, and then returned his attention to Bobby. "Perhaps, for a lesson, do you think that you could find me a boggart today? Or sometime soon, really. I have a lesson planned for the day after a break and I need one."

Bobby brightened considerably at this. "Should be a few of them around a castle this big," he said, pulling a bottle from his robes and handing it to Lupin. "I'll lock it in a box and give it to you."

"You sound a bit too excited for that," Castiel said, nodding to Dean as he returned. "Is something wrong, Dean?"

"No, just a bit disappointed." He shrugged it off and then clapped his hands together. "Alright, who wants to go first?"

He glanced to Remus, about to tell the werewolf to go first. But he stopped short when he saw that the werewolf was no longer moving. "Oh, hell," he breathed, looking around the room. Sam, Castiel, and Bobby were similarly unfrozen. "Alright, come on, what's the deal?"

"Why, Merry Christmas to you as well," the Guide said, striding through thin air. "I thought, after all I haven't seen you for some time, that I would stop in and give you a present."

"I don't see any gift wrapping on you," Bobby growled.

"Don't act like you are mad at me, Bobby," she laughed. "I gave you your wife back. Sorry about the sister thing, by the way. Believe it or not I have some restrictions on my powers. No, I think it is high time for a familiar face."

The Guide clapped her hands and, apparently arriving via Floo network, a small body shot out of the fireplace in Dean's corner and skidded to a stop. "Have fun," she said slyly, disappearing in a puff of snow.

Dean didn't have to look to know who was slowly rising from his floor, but the red hair was a dead giveaway. "Charlie?" he asked warily.

"Dean?" came her voice, warm and confused. Charlie turned on the spot, and the others saw something amiss right away. It was Charlie, that much was certain, but she was… young. Perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old at most. She seemed to sense something amiss from their gaze and glanced into a mirror in the corner of the room. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"

"Yeah, sort of trying to figure that out right now too," Sam admitted just before crushing her in a hug. "How are you here?"

"Dude, I don't know!" she said, returning the hug with gusto. "I was in heaven, rocking out and playing games, and the next thing I know I am sliding across your floor looking like a teenager! Where the hell are we?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then a smile began to creep over their faces. "Charlie, welcome to Hogwarts."

It was a good thing that time was still frozen. Otherwise Charlie's scream would have been heard throughout the castle.


	30. Charlie's Experience

Sam and Dean were right: Charlie took to Hogwarts like a fish to water. The Guide had, evidently, integrated her into the school year so that the professors assumed she had been there the entire time. Naturally, they kept an eye on their favorite little red head. For the following month after she appeared, Charlie always found her way to their room to discuss what she had gotten into that day.

"And, you know, I still say I totally should hate Snape, sort of, but he is actually kind of cool to the other Houses!" Charlie gushed, a smile so bright on her face that it seemed as though she had been given a Cheering Charm. "But, seriously, that Guide chick made me a _Ravenclaw_?! How the heck am I supposed to hit it off with the Golden Trio if I'm in the wrong house! Even Pottermore put me in Gryffindor, and that Guide is _not_ more official than Pottermore!"

"You do know she is an interdimensional being, right?" Dean said, rolling his eyes and smiling despite himself. He loved having Charlie here. She made a good thing even better with her ceaseless enthusiasm.

"Still not Pottermore," Charlie said loftily, petting Lucy absentmindedly. She and the snake had formed a wonderful friendship almost instantly. "Ugh, I still can't believe that I missed half my third year! I mean, it wasn't a really eventful part of the book but I wanted to meet Buckbeak before Sirius flies away with him!"

"Come again?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Tell you later," Sam promised, glancing up from his grading. "Would you two mind keeping it down a bit? I'm trying to finish this tonight."

"Sorry, _Professor_ ," Charlie said, drawing out the word and stifling a laugh. She found the concept of Sam, Dean, and Castiel being teachers hilarious, something she often remarked on. "Don't give me detention now."

"Nah, we'll just write home to your parents," Dean grinned at Charlie, and she smiled right back.

The returning smile was for a very good reason: Charlie's parents were now both alive. She was never at the sleepover that caused them to get into the wreck that took their lives, thus they never died. This was also a separate universe, so that probably played a factor as well. Charlie had discovered this one morning in the Great Hall when a Great-Horned Owl came fluttering from the ceiling for the morning mail and delivered a letter from Charlie's parents telling her how much they missed her for the holidays. She had come, with tears streaming down her face, to Dean who was in the midst of teaching a lesson about Hidebehinds. Mistakenly identifying her tears as those of sadness, he had abruptly dismissed the class and prepared to deliver whoever had caused Charlie to cry the ass-whooping of the century.

"Go ahead, as long as I get good marks they're chill," she said easily. "Speaking of which, have you two started to put together your final exams yet? Only, like, two months before they're here."

"A little," Dean lied.

Sam glanced up at this, a suspicious expression on his face. "Oh, have you?" he asked. "What are you planning for the sixth years?"

"Oh, you know…" Dean waved a hand airily, his mind scrambling for some sort of answer. "Maybe have them find some sort of creature in the Forest."

"You haven't really thought about it at all, have you?" Sam accused.

"No, not at all," Dean admitted. He immediately changed the subject, not wanting to remain under the microscope any longer. "So, Charlie, how are you doing in your classes? Anyone you don't like?"

"Trelawney," Charlie said the name like a curse. "You know, I always thought that the books were a bit harsh on her but, no, that bitch is nuts."

"Oh, if you have trouble with her you should talk to Sam," Dean said slyly. Sam's head shot up at once, and he unconsciously tore the paper he had been grading in half. "He seems to have a way with her."

"How did you find out?" Sam demanded, repairing the paper a bit too aggressively and causing the parchment to be wiped clean.

"Dude, please," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "She gives you bedroom eyes every time that she sees you and _always_ scoots her chair so close to you that she is almost in your lap."

"Oh, Sam, you didn't," Charlie moaned, placing her head in her hands. "With _her_? Really, dude? What happened to your standards?"

"I was drunk!" Sam snapped, fuming that Dean had found out. Seriously, _how did he always find these things out?!_ "Crowley put a spell on some firewhiskey and I woke up there!"

"Sure, Sam, you sly-tongued devil you," Charlie said, a wicked grin on her face. She suddenly affected a bad Trelawney impersonation, miming a crystal ball on her knee. "Yes, yes it is very clear. You will return to her soon enough and make her wildest dreams come through."

"I hate you both," Sam grumbled, returning to his grading and frowning at the blank parchment.

Charlie and Dean began a game of Exploding Snap, giggling when Sam growled at them every time the cards exploded. They had been playing for about thirty minutes when a familiar face came strolling through the door. Sam looked up and smiled slightly. "Severus, good to see you," he said, rising from his seat slightly. "Is everything alright?"

"Not quite," the Potions master said, eyeing Dean and Charlie's game with something akin to distaste on his face. "I understand that you wrote to the Ministry of Magic in regards to the case of the Hippogriff that attacked young Master Malfoy?"

"Yes, that's correct," Sam nodded, strictly formal now that he saw this was not to be a fun visit from the dark-haired man. "After listening to several accounts from those present, it seems to me as though Mr. Malfoy was at fault. By all accounts, apart from his own, he was insulting the hippogriffs which are amongst the proudest creatures."

"And I know for a fact that Hagrid warned them all about being stupid like that," Dean said, his tone far less polite than Sam's was. He didn't like Severus. Something about the guy rubbed him all wrong. "But I guess, since you are such good friends with his parents, that you don't really have a choice but to back up the kid's claims."

"Are you implying that my judgment in the matter is clouded?" Snape asked coldly, turning to fully face Dean.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything," Dean said, rising from his seat to stand face to face with him. They were about even height, and they stared each other down. "I'm straight up saying it."

"If Hagrid was a competent teacher this wouldn't have happened in the first place," Severus said. "His appointment to the position was a direct result of his friendship with Albus Dumbledore, no _acceptable_ Professor would select such a creature as a Hippogriff for third years."

"Really?" Dean asked, raising one eyebrow. "As far as I can tell all the other students, you know, the ones who paid attention to him, enjoyed the lesson a lot."

Snape glared at Dean and the Winchester glared right back at him. Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had filled the air. "Severus, I didn't mean to make things harder on you. But I felt that I had to write to the Ministry on Buckbeak's behalf."

"Which brings me back to the point of this meeting," Snape said, turning his attention away from Dean. "I have just been informed, by Mr. Malfoy himself, that Hagrid has lost his case for the life of the Hippogriff. The Ministry has deemed it to be too dangerous and needs to be put down. I was asked to speak with you on the matter, though it seems that the issue has now been resolved. There will be an appeal, naturally, but that is just a formality. The execution date is set for the day of exams."

"Thank you, Severus," Sam said, sighing. "Good evening."

"And to you," Snape said, sweeping out of the room without a backward glance.

Once the door closed behind him Sam sighed and shook his head. "I thought that I might have been able to help, guess I don't have that much influence. I guess it didn't really matter."

"Remember the books though?" Charlie said fairly. "Lucius Malfoy basically makes them sign the execution order, they didn't have a chance."

"I would love to get a chance to meet that guy," Dean said darkly. He had grown quite fond of Buckbeak.

"Dean, you can't start fights like that," Sam said tiredly. "Snape is too important to the story here, and we don't want to mess up the story line."

"Speaking of which, things are about to get kind of wild around here, right?" Charlie asked. "I mean, in the books, this is when stuff starts going down real fast."

"Yeah, I have been thinking about that." Sam nodded. "If it wasn't for the fact that we have professor stuff to do, and you have exams and such, I wouldn't be worried. But we can't focus on it too much. I wouldn't put it past the Guide to throw us a curveball."

"Yeah, we need to be prepared for the worst," Dean said. He sighed quietly and added, under his breath, "I just wish I knew what the worst was."

 **Hello again my beloved readers,**

 **Hallowed here once again. I have, warily, planned out about four to five more chapters that encompass the events of Book 3. But then I have something of a dilemma. Would you, as readers, prefer for me to simply continue onto book 4 in this story, or would you prefer me to start an entirely new book? Would you even like me to continue onto Book 4 at all? By all means, let me know. Your thoughts and reviews are wonderful, and I thank you for taking the time to read. Please, if you would feel so inclined, let me know what you think!**

 **Cheers, Hallowed**


	31. The Night of the Willow

For a while it seemed as though Sam and Charlie's wariness of the timeline was unfounded. Everything progressed just as it had in the books, until the night of Buckbeak's execution. "So, you want us to do nothing?" Dean asked for, perhaps, the tenth time in less than an hour. Bobby had departed after the holidays, promising to visit them for the summer as often as he could. The remaining four were gathered in Sam's room.

"Totally sure," Sam nodded. "Right about now Lupin is talking with Sirius about who got Harry's parents killed."

"And then Severus shows up and that whole drama goes down, right," Dean sighed and nodded. "I don't know man, something about just sitting here feels wrong."

"I believe I heard my name?" came the cold drawl of Severus Snape from the doorway.

Very slowly, and very unbelievingly, everyone in the room turned to look at the Potions master. "S-Severus?" Sam asked, shocked and confused.

"I do hope you know that you aren't supposed to be here," Crowley said, perhaps the only one in the room who was amused by this development. "Isn't that right, Sam?"

"Severus, aren't you supposed to be delivering Remus his Wolfsbane potion for his change tonight?" Sam asked, trying very hard to remain calm despite the rising panic he felt. A quick glance to Dean told him that his brother was engaged in a very similar internal struggle.

"It is not my responsibility to remind him of his… affliction," Severus said, his lip curling in distaste. "Sam, you of all people should understand the necessity for one to take on their own burdens and not to let others carry them."

"Enough of this," Dean muttered, drawing his wand and pointing it at Severus a moment later. " _Stupify!_ "

Snape's look of shock could not have been more genuine as he flew backward and crashed against the wall, unconscious. "Dean!" Sam shouted, shocked. "You can't just attack another professor!"

"Look man, you said that Snape protects them from Lupin when he turns!" Dean snapped, "And if _he_ is here now, then something is screwed here!"

"He's right, you know." Cas put in, crouching over to examine Snape. "I believe that it is called the Butterfly effect, or something to that end. You change one thing and-."

"And a whole mess of dominoes topple over," Crowley finished, drawing his wand as he knelt beside Castiel. "You two go save those three, I would very much like to avoid having to play Humpty Dumpty with Potter again. Feathers and I will deal with Severus."

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked.

"Alter his memory," Crowley said. "Unless you would prefer for him to wake up knowing you attacked him?"

"Good call," Dean nodded. He turned to his brother. "Where are they going to be?"

"Whomping Willow!" Sam said, sprinting out of the door with Dean fast on his heels.

The Winchesters tore out of the castle, nearly running over any unfortunate students who got in their way. The sun had long since set and even the orange rays of light that lingered behind were now gone. They illuminated the path before them with their wands, but their pace did not slow in the slightest.

Their run took all of about fifteen minutes, but that time seemed like an eternity. When they, finally, came over the hill that let them see the base of the Whomping Willow, their hearts caught in their throat. A large wolf-like creature was standing over five different forms and was slowly stalking them. "Get the kids!" Dean bellowed, charging directly at Lupin.

When he got close, he saw that the werewolves of this world were far different from the ones in his. The wizarding world version were the stuff of nightmares. A thin coat of wiry fur covered the beast's body, and its head was that of a wolf's. Human-like hands ended in cruel claws. It took Dean less than a moment to process all of this, but he didn't falter for a step. The werewolf, intent as it was on his prey, did not notice the hunter until Dean was ten feet away. It rapidly turned to face him, a challenging growl issuing from its chest just as Dean shoulder-tackled the beast away from the kids. The beast gave a surprised whimper and then began to snarl. In an event that was equally fortunate and unfortunate, the momentum from Dean's attack carried them over the edge of the cliff that the Willow sat upon.

Sam watched Dean and Lupin go over the cliff, dread coiling in his stomach. But there was no time for him to chase after Dean as his attention was drawn when a jet of murderous red light went soaring by him. He ripped his wand from his pocket and countered as another curse was sent at him. His aggressor was a mousy looking man with an expression full of hatred. The hand gripping the wand was missing a finger, but that did not seem to affect his ability to hold the slender piece of wood.

"Professor, watch out!" Harry shouted, pain in his voice. "His name is Peter Pettigrew, he's a murderer!"

"I know who he is, Potter," Sam called grimly, his eyes locked on Pettigrew as they began to circle. This was wrong, in the book Pettigrew had taken the first chance he could to escape. Why wasn't he doing so now? He certainly would have been able to when Remus transformed. "Tell me, are you four okay?"

"Ron can't move, his leg is badly injured!" Hermione said, her voice far more controlled than Harry's had been. "Sirius Black, he's bleeding a lot!"

"Alright, Granger, stay calm," Sam said, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. "You just stay there, I will take care of this."

"Ah, a _professor_ are we?" Pettigrew sneered, "After I finish you I will kill them. Imagine how the Dark Lord will reward me when I bring him news that Harry Potter is dead! Perhaps I will bring him his head as proof."

"You won't touch them," Sam promised, his voice cold.

Their duel started then. Sam had, in preparation of the battles that inevitable awaited them, practiced dueling with Dean extensively. But the difference in their duels and this were immediately apparent. Jets of light were blistering hot when he dodged them, and Pettigrew was nothing like he had thought. The mousy man was desperate; firing spell after spell with hardly a pause to catch his breath. Killing Curses went soaring wildly about the clearing they dueled in. The students gave shouts of surprise and fear when one such Curse hit the ground near them and caused a small crater to be blasted in the ground.

Perhaps it was their screams of fear, but Pettigrew's eyes lit up and Sam had to dive in front of them whilst simultaneously casting a Shield Charm to stop the spell that Pettigrew sent at them. On his feet at once he fended off curse after curse, unable to back up even a single step as Pettigrew advanced on them, a manic gleam in his eye. "Run!" Sam ordered, managing to send his own curse flying back at Pettigrew. "Get out of here, now! You are only in the way!"

"We can't!" Harry said, crouching protectively over the body of a large black dog that Sam assumed was Sirius. "I won't leave him!"

"Dammit!" Sam said, fending off yet another curse. The ground beneath his feet was hot from the heat of the magic, and his adrenaline was racing. "Leave the kids alone!"

"The Dark Lord will surely reward me greatly for this!" Pettigrew said eagerly, pausing just long enough to speak. "Now, _die_!"

A sudden growl ripped from behind Sam, but he couldn't turn around as Pettigrew had started their duel anew. But, an instant later, a large mass of black fur rushed by him and made a beeline for Pettigrew. Clearly not expecting this, the mousy man was an instant too slow in getting a defensive curse off. The large black dog leapt into the air and its jaws locked around Pettigrew's throat, its weight forcing Peter to the ground. For just a moment a horrible scream came from the beneath the dog's feet, but then it was silenced when the dog made a sudden shake of its head.

Pettigrew was silent and, Sam suspected, he would be silent forever more. Sirius, as that was who the black dog was, slumped over and fell onto his side and released Pettigrew's throat. Sam, cautiously, began to walk forward, his wand aimed directly at the still body of the man who had caused the death of Harry's parents. As he expected, his throat was torn open and he was trying desperately to draw in air. Fear was in his eyes and Sam looked down at him. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to beg for mercy or for assistance, but nothing came out. Sam stood over the small man and did nothing. He watched Pettigrew choke to death on his own blood, a smell sense of satisfaction as the man who caused so much pain and suffering died in such a fashion.

Once the light had faded from Pettigrew's eyes, Sam leaned down and pulled away his wand. He stowed it in his back pocket and turned his attention to the unconscious form of Sirius's Animagus form. One Levitation charm later and the black dog was bobbing in the air before him. "Are you three alright?" Sam asked, kneeling before them.

"Professor, that was bloody brilliant," Ron said, though his face was white as a sheet. Sam had to take only one look at his leg to know that walking was not going to be possible for the Weasley. "Come on, we need to get that leg taken care of in the hospital wing."

"Professor, what about your brother?" Harry asked, looking back to the spot where Dean had gone off the cliff with the werewolf. "Shouldn't you go after him?"

"Dean will be fine," Sam said, secretly wishing he could do just that. But he needed to make sure these three were looked after as Snape couldn't. "You three need to get to the Hospital Wing."

Sam had just begun to wrap Ron's leg with a strip of fabric he had ripped from his own robes when Harry spoke up again. "Professor, is it… does it feel a lot colder now than it did a few minutes ago?"

Slowly, very slowly, Sam let out a long breath. When he had left the castle he had not been able to see his breath even slightly. Yet, now, he could clearly see it. In fact, the temperature seemed to be dropping by the second. He looked up and, to his horror, he saw hundreds of dark robed figures descending upon them in the night sky.


	32. The Night of the Willow Pt 2

Dean felt his weightlessness the moment after he had shoulder-charged the werewolf off the cliff. The last thought that crossed his mind was, "Oh, hell, this is going to _hurt_." Moments later his breath was ripped from his lungs as he hit a rock and began a wild roll down the hill. He didn't have time to gather himself at the bottom, however, as the second he landed he felt a crushing blow right below his ribs and he was sent flying until he hit a tree.

"Ugh," he groaned, stumbling to his feet and bringing forth a silver dagger he had conjured on the run over to the Whomping Willow. He was bruised, bleeding, and out of breath. And he was _so_ exhilarated. This, this sort of situation was what he was used to. The werewolf snarled at him, rising onto its hind legs and roaring at him. "Come on then, you great big son of a bitch!"

The werewolf swiped at him, its claws aiming for his neck, but Dean ducked the blow and rolled out of the way. Already growing angrier by the second as its prey continued to evade it, the werewolf raised its maw in a howl. It charged him, on all fours this time, and he tried to dive out of the way again. He thought he had managed it when he felt a clawed hand wrap around his ankle and drag him backwards. He turned onto his back and kicked out at the muzzle of the werewolf, missing, and being dragged under the beast. The werewolf snapped at him, its teeth closing just centimeters from his neck. Dean, instinctively, went to shove the blade of the silver knife upwards and into the werewolf's chest, but he stopped himself short. Transformed or not, this was still Remus! He couldn't kill one of his best friends, could he?

"Come on, Remus!" Dean shouted, holding the blade horizontal in the werewolf's mouth as he forced the beast back. He saw that the silver was burning it, but it wasn't enough for it to back off from its assault. "Don't make me do this, Remus!"

Annoyed at the burning piece of metal between its jaws, the werewolf bit down on the knife and, with a vicious shake of its head, ripped the blade from Dean's hand and sent it flying into the darkness. Dean watched his lifeline go with a sense of dread and desperation rising within him.

With the werewolf's jaws bearing down upon him, he did the only thing he could think to do: he punched the beast in the side of the head as hard as he could from his prone position. It wasn't a good punch, no power at all behind it, but it served to further infuriate him.

When it looked like the werewolf's jaws were about to close around his throat, Dean suddenly felt the beast's weight disappear from him along with a loud series of growls and grunts. He scrambled to his feet and, to his equal gratefulness and horror, saw three slightly larger than normal wolves facing the werewolf with their teeth bared. "What the hell are you three doing?" Dean demanded, drawing his wand from his pocket. "Morgan, get those two out of here!"

"No, Dean," Morgan said, his snarl somewhat distorting the words more than usual. "We are already… what we are. His bite will not affect us, but you could still be turned."

"That's my problem!" Dean insisted. "You three are still just kids, get the hell out of here and let me deal with this!"

"Make us!" Star snapped, Dak growling his agreement.

"Dean!" Sam's voice, wildly out of place in this current group of beings, came from behind him. A moment later and the younger Winchester had joined his elder brother and his wand was extended towards the werewolf that was Remus.

"Sam, what the hell man?" Dean demanded for the second time in just a few seconds. "You were supposed to look after the kids!"

"I am!" Sam promised.

Dean glanced back, horrified at the prospect that Sam had brought the kids with him to face down a werewolf of all things. "Where the hell are they?"

"Back on the hill, with me!" Sam said, momentarily forgetting that Dean was basically clueless about the wizarding world still. At least, insofar as Time-Turners were concerned.

"You aren't making any sense!" Dean cursed, "Did you get hit on the head or something?"

"Nevermind," Sam said, "I'll explain later. For now we need to deal with Remus and then get back to the Whomping Willow."

Whatever Dean was going to say in response was lost on them as the werewolf rushed at them, the appearance of a second prey animal proving too much for its instinct to resist. Dak growled and bit at the werewolf and was promptly sent flying much like Dean had been moments earlier. "Son of a bitch!" Dean said, his protective instincts rising up as he saw one of his unofficial students being hurt. He reached for his wand and found nothing.

"Werewolves have a natural immunity to magic," Sam reminded him, tossing Dean a large branch. "We've gotta do this old-fashioned. We don't need to kill him, just scare him off."

"Sounds good to me!" Dean said, charging forward with the branch. The werewolf, momentarily distracted by Star as she bit at his leg, looked up a second too late as Dean brought the branch cracking across its skull. A splinter of what was, presumably, once a smaller branch caught on the wolf's skull and ripped at its ear. The werewolf howled in pain, the sound cut off when Sam's branch caught it on its throat. The sound of pain the beast made then was something of a kitten's cry. Morgan, Star, and now a recovered Dak, began to growl and snap at the beast's legs until, at last, it turned tail and disappeared into the forest with a piteous whine escaping it.

The forest was eerily still for a moment, all of those present straining their ears to listen for any signs of deceit from the creature. Only when Morgan visibly relaxed did Sam and Dean allow themselves to do the same. "I owe you guys," Dean said, sliding down against a tree and catching his breath. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was uncomfortably aware of the pain coming from his ribs every time that he drew in a breath. "How did you know I was here?"

"Well, we heard a bunch of loud growls, the sound of someone falling down a cliff, and we thought 'Who else could it be?'" Star said, followed closely by their breathy laughter that was echoed by Dak and Morgan.

"We saw you leave the castle in a rush, so we thought that we should keep an eye on you," Morgan said honestly. "We saw you fall off the cliff and made our way here as quickly as we could."

"Well, you guys saved my ass," Dean said, extending a hand to Sam and using him to get back to a standing position. "Now, if you excuse me, I have some more kids to save."

"You may want to hurry," Dak said, cocking one ear to the sky and whining. "I smell something… something… cold."

Dean looked to Sam who nodded. "The dementors are coming for Sirius."

"Sirius Black?" Star asked, horrified. "No! We have to do something."

"Star, we can't do anything to them," Morgan told her. He turned his focus to Sam and Dean. "But you can. Sirius Black was a friend to us whilst he hid in the forest, I would ask that you two save him."

"We're on it," Sam promised, putting Dean's arm over his shoulder. "What's the fastest way to get back up to the Willow?"

"Well, that depends," Dak said, "Do you think Dean can ride?"

"Ride what?" Sam asked.

A few seconds later the sound of large wings came from above them and Buckbeak landed in the clearing before them. He cawed softly and, in a spectacular show of balance, Sam and Dean bowed to him unison. Buckbeak returned the bow almost at once and allowed them to approach. "Talk about good timing," Dean said, using Sam's cupped hands as a boost to throw his leg over the Hippogriff.

"No, I doubt that," Morgan disagreed. "Hippogriff's have a wonderful sense of smell and they are fiercely loyal as well as proud. He probably smelled you and wanted to come help you."

"I thought he was chained up waiting for the executioner?" Dean asked, glancing to Sam.

"No idea," Sam said, slapping Buckbeak's flank and sending the hippogriff flying to the air.

"Wait, Sam!" Dean shouted, looking back to see standing there watching him fly away. Morgan, Dak, and Star watched him go as well.

Unable to keep his balance while still looking back, he turned and wrapped his arms around Buckbeak's neck. The beast seemed to have some idea of where he was going and made a beeline for the Whomping Willow, making the journey in no time at all. However, now that Dean was in the air, he now saw that Dak had been right. The air grew unbearably cold seemingly all at once. Whether that was the reason that Buckbeak chose to land beside the Whomping Willow or that he recognized Harry was anyone's guess. Sam, the one who had been with the kids, breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw Dean slip off of Buckbeak's back and fall onto the ground. He helped his brother up, his wand extended at the rapidly approaching dementors.

"Hey hey hey! Dean! You still with me!?"

"Sam?" Dean asked, the pain from his ribs now pulsing throughout his body and clouding his thoughts. "How the hell are you here?"

"What?" He asked, confused. He dismissed his brother's sentence and dragged him over to where the students cowered. The first line of dementors were now less than fifty feet away, their initial hesitation gone and they approached eagerly. Only Sam's serpent kept them at bay and even that was beginning to fade. There were simply too many for one Patronus to handle. "Dean, I know you are hurting right now but I need you to cast a Patronus charm!"

"I don't have my wand!" Dean said, reaching for his pocket. He frowned when he felt the familiar smooth wood right where it _hadn't_ been only ten minutes before. "Uh, never mind I guess."

"Professor!" Hermione screamed, covering his face when a dementor swooped in, presumably to administer the Kiss to what it saw as criminals. Sam directed his serpent back and the Patronus coiled and struck out at the eerie prison guard in an instant. The dementor screeched and flew several dozen feet into the air to escape.

"Happy memory… happy memory…" Dean muttered to himself. A moment later his impala bloomed from the tip of his wand and loped out to join Sam's serpent. The two Patronus formed a wall against the dementors, successfully keeping them at bay, but not causing them to retreat. "We've gotta do something."

"Potter, you have been practicing the Patronus with Lupin, right?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes off of the hooded figures. Several dementors, particularly daring ones, tried to move past the Patronus and were abruptly sent scurrying away. "If you want Sirius Black to stay alive and not Kissed, you are going to need to help us here!"

"W-what?" Harry asked, confusion written all over his face. Hermione grabbed him by the front of his robes and, in a voice too low for either Winchester to hear, gave him what they assumed was some words of encouragement. With his stance full of confidence, Harry got to his feet and drew his wand. He pointed it at the horde of dementors and shouted, " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A silvery mist blossomed from the tip at first, but the mist seemed to take form and solidify until a silver stag bounded forward and led the charge against the dementors. The guards of Azkaban scattered in terror now, the temperature quickly returning to normal levels.

"Potter, is Black conscious?" Sam asked quickly, striding forward.

"You aren't taking him!" Hermione, Ron, and Harry said as one, moving to guard Black with their bodies.

"He isn't a murderer!" Ron said, though his face was pale from the pain of his leg.

"I assumed as much when I saw Peter Pettigrew was alive and referred to Voldemort as the Dark Lord," Sam said coolly, stowing his wand in his robes. "However, until we get this sorted out, Black shouldn't be anywhere where he could be taken prisoner. You just saw what the dementors were like when they saw him, and I can't protect him once your Ministry gets ahold of him."

"So, what were you going to do?" Harry asked warily.

Sam explained his plan, which was pretty much the same as in the book minus a tower escape, and soon enough Sirius Black was astride Buckbeak flying into the rising sun. Sam made his way over to Wormtail's body and cast a Levitation spell on it, letting it bob before them as they made their way back to the castle. Ron, unfortunately, was left to be basically carried by Harry and Hermione as Dean was unable to lift him despite his best efforts. Soon enough they were all back in the Hospital Wing, a very unhappy Crowley attending to them.

"Truly, I ask you for one thing," he growled, checking Dean's bandages. "One simple thing. Don't make more work for me. Was that so hard? Apparently bloody well so!"

"Yeah, I love throwing myself off cliffs," Dean snapped. "First thing on the way down I think of is ' _Wow, I can't wait to make more work for Crowley!'"_

"Well maybe next time try falling head first, find out if you are a flying squirrel," Crowley said, pulling Dean's wrapping a _bit_ harder than was absolutely necessary.

Outside of the Hospital Wing, Sam was speaking to Castiel in hushed tones. "And you are sure?" he asked the former angel.

"Very," Castiel nodded. "Time travel is a very precarious thing, the smallest change could have catastrophic consequences. Under no circumstances can you allow yourself to be seen by yourself."

Sam nodded and hurried off, following after Harry and Hermione.


	33. Book Three, End

"So, that's it?" Dean asked, flicking through a _Quidditch Weekly_ magazine with his feet on Sam's desk. It was the end of term, and every so often a student lugging around a suitcase or two would walk by the classroom as they prepared to leave. "Just like that?"

Dean had been wary of almost everything after the events of the night that Remus transformed. Sam had shared his apprehension, not at all sure what was happening due to Pettigrew's character change. Wasn't he supposed to be a terrible coward? Fighting Sam should have been the last thing on his mind and, yet, he had still dueled him with the intent to kill. It hadn't been as though his back had been against the wall either. "Yeah, that's supposed to be the end of the third book," Sam shrugged one shoulder. "Remus gets fired, Sirius escapes on Buckbeak, and Pettigrew was _supposed_ to escape to summon Voldemort back."

"Sounds like we missed a bullet on that one," Dean snorted derisively and turned the page of his magazine. "I don't know, man. Something doesn't feel right here."

"I quite agree," Crowley said, strolling into the room with his signature coat back on. "Call it a sixth sense, or what have you, but based on what Moose has told us it seems as though this world is not at all acting like we thought it should."

"Maybe we have had a bigger impact than we thought?" Sam suggested hopefully. "I mean, we haven't exactly done a great job of laying low."

"Perhaps, but even as charming as we are I doubt we could cause such a magnitude of character shift as the one you described in the man you killed," Crowley countered. "No, I would be willing to hazard a guess that there is something much bigger at work here. So, with that in mind, I wish you boys a lovely summer."

Dean's head shot up at this and he exchanged a look with Sam. "You're leaving?" he asked slowly, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the desk. "Aren't you needed here?"

"No students stay here during the summer and, I daresay, you two are more than capable of putting yourselves back together." Crowley reminded them. "However, should anything too nasty arise, you can find me at St. Mungo's. Evidently it is a Wizarding Hospital."

"What are you going to be doing there?" Sam asked.

"Gathering information Samantha," Crowley heaved a loud sigh and rolled his eyes dramatically. "The same thing you two should be doing. Never know when something you overheard could come in handy. Make sure you say goodbye to your lady love, Moose." He winked at Sam as he departed and then he was gone.

"Did you tell him?!" Sam asked hotly, glaring at Dean.

"Wasn't me," Dean said, his face just a bit too innocent. "But I think he is right. We should definitely start looking around, get more familiar with the world and all that. Pretty sure we will be staying here for a while and it looks like we won't be able to rely on what you thought you knew all the time."

"It just doesn't make sense though," Sam sighed. He paused and then looked to Dean curiously. "You know, we never did discuss how you met Star, Dak, and Morgan. Talking wolves, you'd think that would be something you would bring up."

"Well, they aren't exactly wolves," Dean corrected. "And they saved my ass when I was in the Forest. I was looking around and a ghoul got the jump on me. Thought I was a goner but they pulled it off me and sent it running for the hills."

"So after that you just became friends?" Sam asked. "And if they aren't wolves, what are they?"

"Werewolves," Dean said. "Not the normal kind though, they weren't bitten. Apparently when two werewolves get it on during a full moon the result is, well, a wolf that can talk. I'm not sure on the particulars, I've been reading a lot about it and so far I got nothing. It doesn't happen too often because apparently werewolves want to fight more than they want to-."

"I get it," Sam said, raising a hand to forestall his brother. "So, what, they don't turn like normal werewolves do?"

Dean opened his mouth like he was about to answer and then shook his head slowly. "Look man that is their business. Not my place to say."

About to argue, they were saved from any debate when Remus's coughing brought attention to the doorway for the second time in less than five minutes. "Gentleman," Remus said, stepping warily through the doorway. "I thought I would see you one last time before I set off."

"Going home for the summer, too?" Dean asked, gesturing for Lupin to take a seat.

Lupin waved away the offer with a smie. "Ah, so you haven't heard then?" he nodded. "Unfortunately, Dean, several of the school's more wealthy benefactors got wind of my, erm, _condition_ from one of the teachers and they deemed it, rather me, too dangerous to continue teaching them."

"They fired you?" Dean rose from his chair, his brow furrowing in anger. "Who the hell told them that you were a werewolf?"

"Unfortunately I am unsure," Lupin shrugged one shoulder so noncommittally that it betrayed his lie. "Let us just say that some childhood grudges are not so easily forgiven."

"Severus," Dean cursed, patting his jeans for his wand. "When I get ahold of him…"

"Dean, calm down," Sam advised. "You shouldn't get involved. No offense, Remus."

"None taken," Lupin smiled at Sam. "I was about to say the same. No, I would have resigned even if I hadn't been fired. The events of the night you saved me from killing, or worse turning, the children showed me how careless it was for me to accept this position in the first place."

"Remus, mistakes happen," Dean said, his argument sounding half-assed even to him.

"Perhaps, but the mistakes of others do not ruin or take lives." Remus said resolutely. "Do not worry about me, Dumbledore has already made other arrangements for me in a less dangerous line of work. Perhaps not as rewarding as teaching young minds, but it is work."

"If you need anything you let us know," Sam told him firmly, pulling the gaunt man into a one-armed hug. "I mean that. Send an owl, Floo Network, anything at all and we will be there as fast as we can. Both of us."

"Damn right," Dean growled, still unhappy with this turn of events. Though he had no proof, he was certain that Lucius Malfoy had been a large part of Lupin's dismissal. He looked forward to finally meeting that one. "And if you ever need money, we have more than we know what to do with. Anything man, and I mean anything, like Sam said: let us know."

Lupin smiled at them both with a medley of emotions flashing across his face. "Thank you both." He said, allowing Dean to pull him into a hug as well. "Truly. I don't meet many people who are as tolerant of my condition as you are. I sincerely hope our paths cross again in the near future."

They exchanged several more good-byes and then Lupin was gone. "Have you seen Cas?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence had lapsed between them.

"No, actually," Dean said, pushing up from where he had been leaning against the desk. "Want to go find him? I could use a walk."

"Sure," Sam agreed, leading the way out the door.

They chatted about the different events that had transpired throughout the year, reminiscing over the things they had done. "Did I ever tell you that time that I pissed off a bow-… what the hell is that?"

"I think that is Neville Longbottom and a few Slytherins." Sam said, hiding a smile. "Hold up here, I want to hear what they're talking about."

"-really should come to visit me, you know!" Triss Flores was saying animatedly. "Mother and Father are really excited to meet you, you know!"

"M-me?" Neville asked, thoroughly shocked that anyone would want to meet him. "What for?"

"I want to be a Healer at St. Mungo's, remember?" the Slytherin sixth-year rolled her eyes. "But I am dreadful at Herbology. Before I met you I was failing every assignment, I thought for sure I was going to have to give up. But then I met you and I just got full marks on my last exam!"

"I didn't do much," Neville said, looking down and blushing fiercely.

"Didn't do much he says," Rookwood laughed and clapped the Gryffindor on the shoulder. "Mate you saved my arse, my old man would have cursed me into oblivion if I failed Herbology. I don't know why I need it to work in the Department of Mysteries, but I guess that's the point innit?"

"I guess," Neville smiled, finally looking up at them. "You guys helped me too, I think I passed everything!"

"You haven't checked?" Triss asked, horrified. "What are you doing here? We need to go find out!"

"Ah, Triss, aren't you supposed to be on the next carriages out of here?" Jamie, one of the few Ravenclaws in the group, asked curiously. He glanced out a near window and then nodded down to them. "Because it looks like they are leaving… now."

"Shit!" Triss cursed, rushing to the window and then bolting away. She skidded to a stop and then rushed back to Neville, kissing him on both cheeks and demanding that he write her before rushing away once more.

Blushing a deep crimson once more, Neville touched his cheeks where Triss had kissed him as though unsure if it had actually happened. Rookwood whistled low and nudged Neville with an elbow. "I think she fancies you mate," he told Neville. "But she's right, let's go check those marks of yours shall we?"

The students left in a group, laughing and joking with one another. Sam watched them go with a sense of pride at his House. It had taken all year, and promised to be an uphill battle, but he was _finally_ seeing some results. Dean caught his brother's look but said nothing, certain that this camaraderie between Houses was his doing.

They made their way to Castiel's office and knocked on the door. When no one answered from within they pushed the door open and found the room almost completely empty. On Castiel's desk was a note from the angel.

 _Sam and Dean_

I apologize for not informing you of my departure. Professor Burbage contacted me and inquired as to whether or not I would be interested in a trip to see some ancient Muggle Ruins. I do not think that someone in my profession would readily be able to turn down such an opportunity so I agreed to join her. I will return to Hogwarts for the next semester, should I not see you before then. If trouble arises, please send me an owl and I will do my utmost to assist.

Cas

"Well, guess that solves that mystery," Sam said, reading over the letter once more. "I was worried about Cas being a Muggle Studies professor, maybe I was wrong?"

"He taught kids about strippers on his first day here," Dean reminded him, laughing quietly at the memory. "I think you were right to worry."

"Maybe," Sam laughed. He sighed and turned to Dean. "Look man, I'm gonna head off too."

"What, back to your room?" Dean asked, not following.

"No," Sam said, shaking his head. "Look, in this world I am some sort of famous Auror. I think I should head back to U.S Ministry of Magic and see what I can learn there. I'm pretty sure if I just stayed around here all summer it might look kind of odd, all things considered."

"You want me to go with you?" Dean asked, already guessing the answer.

"Dark-Wizard Hunter with a reputation for being a stone cold killer," Sam reminded him. "Don't think it will look right if I show up with my brother there. No, I think I better go alone for this one."

"I gotcha," Dean said. "When are you going to head out?"

"Probably later today," Sam admitted. "The sooner the better, right?"

"Right," Dean agreed hesitantly. He hated the idea of splitting up. "Be safe, alright?"

"Don't worry about me," Sam told him. "You should find yourself something to do over the summer. Always good to have a few allies, right?"

"I'll see what I can do," Dean promised, hugging his brother tightly. "They wanted me to start looking for creatures they can use in the Triwizard Tournament, might as well start with the Forbidden Forest."

"After that I recommend Egypt," Sam said, smiling mysteriously. "Watch out for riddles."

The Winchesters released one another and then took different paths back to their rooms. So it was that their first summer within the wizarding world began, with all of their lives taking them on different paths throughout the globe.

 **And so, my dear readers, Book Three ends. A number of you have messaged me and demanded that the Golden Trio be more heavily featured, and I shall be doing so in the next book. Do not worry about subscribing to a new story, I will be continuing onto The Goblet of Fire in the next chapter. For those of you who wished for a summation of their summers, I apologize. I wrote one out, but it simply wasn't enough for a chapter without revealing too much of what I have planned for the future. Also, I apologize for the length of this Author's Note, I try to avoid them as best I can but please indulge me this once. I would like to thank each and every one of you for taking this journey with me and for taking the time to read and review. Nothing makes me want to start working on the next chapter more than seeing reviews come in for my works. You lot are, well and truly, the reason I write. Thank you, all of you, so much. Now, for my final request. I have checked the Terms and Conditions of FanFiction and nothing says I cannot do this, so: I am on Wattpad as well! My writing handle there is HallowedOutlaw (the Hallowed theme follows me everywhere) and if you are a fan of my writing and would like to see some of my original works, please go take a look. It would mean the world to me. Don't worry, I won't ask beyond once per book, and that is at max. Other than that, I have nothing else for you my readers. I thank you all again, from the bottom of my heart, for taking the time to click on my story.**

 **Until next time. Keep your head on a swivel, your wands at the ready, and your flannels handy.**

 **-Hallowed**


	34. The World Cup

The stands of the Quidditch World Pith were beginning to fill as witches and wizards eagerly made their way to their seats, all of them excited for the highly anticipated final match. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were no exception. Harry and Ron analyzed every aspect of their program that they possibly could, which was quite a lot considering the depth to which it provided on. Hermione offered politely interested comments but exchanged knowing looks with Mr. Weasley when the other two looked away.

"Dad, do you know who this special guest referee is supposed to be?" Ron asked, glancing over to his father as they began to ascend yet another flight of stairs on their way to their seats. "It only says that there will be one."

"Yes, that's actually done every year," Arthur answered, hiding a smile. "And I suppose you will have to wait and see, won't you?"

"Why do they have a special guest referee, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked once Harry and Ron had returned to their conversation.

"I'm not quite sure why," he admitted, now panting slightly from the amount of effort that they were spending on stairs. "I know it has a lot to do with turnouts. A few years ago a member of The Weird Sisters was the special guest referee and the turnout for that game was bigger than it had been in years. Don't get me wrong, the World Cup always brings in a large amount of galleons. But it's also good publicity for the Quidditch community and the international community alike. I think this year's guest referee will be one even you will recognize Hermione."

He left Hermione to ponder this as they, finally, found their way to their box seats. Corenlius Fudge was there waiting for them along with Ludo Bagman and, to the new arrivals' collective displeasure, the Malfoys. Draco looked over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and nodded at them. Harry, who had prepared an insult to hurl back at Draco, was left in something of a state of confusion. The three of them nodded in return and then exchanged confused looks.

Luckily Lucius Malfoy was still the jerk they knew him to be. "My heavens, Arthur," he said, "Surely your house wouldn't have fetched the price needed for these seats?"

"Hello, Lucius," Arthur said stiffly, ignoring the remark. He turned to Fudge, who had been arguing under his breath with Bagman, and extended a hand. "Hello, Minister."

"Ah, Weasley," Fudge said, shaking the hand. "You've met Ludo Bagman, haven't you?"

"Of course, of course," he said, shaking hands with the Head of the Magical Games and Sports department. "Doing well, Ludo?"

"I will be so much better when this event is over," Ludo said, sporting his robes from his days as a beater for the Wasps. But then he broke into a childish grin and he shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, what am I saying? I live for this. Can't say I haven't been up to my eyeballs in planning though, what with the T-."

"I think I get the picture," Arthur interrupted, throwing a deliberate look towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had begun to converse with a house-elf. "I don't want them to know, yet. Surprise them and all that, you see?"

"I suppose that makes sense," Ludo agreed. He glanced back to Fudge and Lucius, both of who were deep in conversation. "I tell you Arthur, I have a very bad feeling about all of this for some reason. Something in the air, I suppose?"

"I think the stress of the event may be getting to you," Arthur laughed. "Ah, is it starting then?"

Mr. Weasley was referring to a small explosion of red light in the center of the pitch. "Yes it is!" Ludo said, his previous unease disappearing.

Far below the stands, in the tunnels that led to the pitch, stood the Ireland national team. They were sitting on benches, awaiting the moment that Ludo Bagman would call them onto the field. Save for one person, they were all there to play. When Bagman's magically amplified voice began to resonate through the area, they all looked up as one and grabbed their brooms. "Line up," their captain, Lynch, ordered. His voice, to his credit, did not shake at all.

The one person in the locker room that was not playing in the match, Dean Winchester, decided to line up behind them. The beaters from the Irish team continually sent him admiring looks until he caught one's eye and smiled back. One of the beaters, Quigley, sidled his way back in line and greeted Dean. "Aye, you're Dean Winchester right?"

"Yeah, that's me," he smiled.

"Mate you're an absolute legend-." Quigley began, quickly getting stopped by Dean with one finger raised.

"Hey man, we can exchange stories later," Dean told him. "But right now you need to get your head right. You are the one protecting these guys, get your mind in the game."

Lynch sent Dean back a thankful look before throwing a leg over his broom and flying onto the field when Bagman called his name. The rest of the Irish team followed soon after, leaving Dean alone in the tunnel. "And now, we introduce to you the special guest referee of this year's World Cup! Quidditch fans, we have a treat for you. This man _still_ holds records that, I personally believe, will never be broken. He was a member of the United States World Champion Quidditch team, ladies and gentleman, I present to you the one, the only, _DEAN WINCHESTER!_ "

Dean felt goosebumps go up his arm and he followed the Irish team onto the field, flying with all the skill of a veteran Quidditch beater. In the center of the pitch the other referee, Hassan Mostafa, was beckoning him over. Flying over there, Dean landed next to the referee and was handed a beater's bat almost instantly by Hassan. "Now ladies and gentleman, we have a treat for you. Many of you must remember how, in the 1990 World Cup, Winchester managed to hit a bludger from beneath his team's goal post all the way over to the other team's Keeper and knock him out! Now, we aren't asking you to do that again, Mr. Winchester, but how about you show these fine folks that you still have some of the old magic running through you?"

Never one to back down from a challenge, Dean Winchester thrust his beater's bat into the air and the crowd exploded in anticipation. "Head to the center of the match, I'll release the bludger at you once you give me a signal." Hassan told him. "Try not to miss."

"No promises," Dean said, rolling one shoulder. He mounted his broom and shot to the center of the arena, all too aware that all eyes were on him at that moment. He swung the bat in a loose arc, and took a deep breath in. He nodded to Hassan and the other referee kicked over the box containing a single Bludger. The murderous little ball made a direct beeline at him and Dean waited. When the bludger was less than a meter away he swung his bat viciously, solidly connecting with the Bludger and sending it flying through one of the far goal posts.

The crowd went wild once more and Ludo Bagman shouted out, "How do you like that, ladies and gentleman? And, to think, he's only rated as the third best beater in history!"

Hassan congratulated Dean on the hit and took the beater's bat back, placing it in a small leather case. "What about the bludger?" Dean asked, looking for where the ball had gone off to."

"Oh, it's probably disintegrated by now," Hassan said dismissively, hefting out the chest containing the official balls of the match. Dean grabbed the other side and the two men flew the crate to the center of the field. "I put a degradation charm on it a few second before I released it."

"Makes sense," Dean agreed. "You good here, or did you want me to stay?"

"No, I have this well in hand," Hassan told him. "My thanks, however. Find somewhere out of the way, but you already know that."

"Well, good luck," Dean said, kicking off the ground and soaring away. He chose to float next to one of the stands, his eyes intent on the field as the match began.

In St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a very different scene was playing out before Crowley. For his brief time spent with the Hospital Crowley had been given a rather small office, much to his delight. He had immediately placed several charms on the door so that none other than him could enter unless he allowed it. Altogether it was the perfect escape when he simply did not want to deal with any patient or staff member.

He was in that office now sucking absentmindedly on a sugar quill, his favorite part of the wizarding world thus far, and staring down at two patient sheets. The names at the top of the sheets were 'Frank Longbottom' and 'Alice Longbottom'. Since arriving he had taken a special interest in the two long term residents once he had heard their story from another Healer. "Tortured to the point of insanity," Crowley muttered.

He was no stranger to that sort of thing, he had done this to so many souls in hell that it had become something of an art form to him. However those were damned souls. They deserved it, if only to appease the endless boredom he felt while ruling Hell. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been tortured to insanity for defending people. Crowley had researched the last Wizarding Civil War thoroughly, mostly to determine which side he commiserated with. All in all he was disgusted with Voldemort's idealism. Crowley, himself, had come from nothing. That evil bitch Rowena had left him to rot at a young age. It may not have been until after he died, but he had crawled up to rule Hell itself. The idea of one person being better than the other for something as asinine as blood status was completely absurd. If you were going to revolt do it for something logical, like power.

But, looking back to the files before him, he was drawn back into the mystery that was the Longbottoms. Their mental faculties had clearly degraded to some point, but they were still able to walk, eat, and all the more basic functions of the human body. But they were still incapable of speech and other forms of higher thought. Altogether they posed a question that Crowley wanted to answer, if only to set right the karmic justice of the world.

His experience in causing others to go mad was, unquestionably, helpful here as it provided for him knowledge of the process. But he had never had cause to fix someone after breaking them. He typically just threw them away like a broken toy. That was wherein his problem lied. He had tested several theories but each of them had been ineffective. The only result he had gotten was that Alice had actually spoken the word 'please' aloud. But that wasn't necessarily a good step. She had most likely said that word several times during the course of her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

A knock on his door broke him from his reverie and he looked up. Augusta Longbottom was looking at him from his doorway and he beckoned her to sit. She nodded and walked into his office, taking a seat on the chair opposite to his desk. "Hello, Mr. MacLeod, how are you today?"

"Oh, well enough I suppose," Crowley said, tossing the files onto his desk. "Is there something you needed?"

"I understand that you have taken an interest in my son and daughter's case," Augusta said, adjusting her bag and rather strange hat. "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that, but I also have a favor to ask."

"Let me hazard a guess," Crowley said, "You wish for me to keep this from your grandson?"

"I don't want to give him hope only for it to be shattered," Augusta explained. "We have had other Healers attempt the same thing after all."

"You haven't had a Healer like me on the case, I promise you that," Crowley said, a smile reminiscent of his days as King of Hell flickering onto his face.


	35. Attack on the World Cup

Perhaps it was the infectious enthusiasm and celebratory mood of the Irish after their very close victory over Bulgaria, but Dean now found himself in the midst of a party hosted by the winning team and their countrymen. He felt bad but, as he was repeatedly told, he was a guest referee in name alone and he hadn't made any officiating decisions during the match so he couldn't really be accused of favoritism. "And hell, those Bludgers were a right mess aye?" Quigley was saying, shaking his head as he sipped at a glass of magical whiskey. "Came after you and the other ref a time or two."

"Yeah they did," Dean said, admiring the glass of alcohol in his hand. He had not drank nearly as much as the others gallivanting around had, but he still felt the effects. The interesting thing about the Irish's drink of choice was that it was enchanted so that the slurring of one's words due to inebriation was entirely negated, in fact it seemed to increase one's ability to get across their message in an eloquent manner. "It was a good game, you should be proud."

"Aye, that we are," Lynch said, beaming at Dean across the room. He had been chatting animatedly with what Dean assumed was his wife or girlfriend. "The Bulgarians really showed us their mettle, and what a worthy match it was for the World Cup!"

"That they did," Dean laughed. He then paused and scooted his seat a bit closer to Lynch. "Hey, man, you mind if I talk to you real quick?"

"Of course, Winchester," Lynch smiled at him, curiosity clear in his eyes. "What is on your mind?"

"Well, you know how I teach at Hogwarts right?"

"Of course, of course," Lynch nodded, leaning towards Dean and wincing slightly. He had taken more than one bludger during the match, and he was clearly still sore.

"Well, one of my students there, a kid named Oliver Wood, he's got more talent than almost anyone I've ever seen," Dean said, a guilty feeling of favoritism gnawing at him. He shrugged it off, vowing to help the others on the team when they graduated. "He's the sort of Keeper who would take a Bludger to the skull rather than let the quaffle through one of his rings."

"That's a rare sort these days," Lynch nodded. "A lot of the younger ones get scared of the bludgers, can't blame them though. Vicious little bastards, aye?"

"You're right about that," Dean nodded. "Anyways I was wondering-."

Whatever Dean was about to say was lost on Lynch as a massive crashing sound interrupted the festivities. "The hell was that?" Lynch demanded, springing to his feet and wobbling unsteadily.

Dean followed suit, his wand already in his hand as he looked towards the direction of the noise. Large green flames were leaping into the sky and he looked in question to Lynch. "Is that one of your celebrations?"

"Not us mate," Lynch said, staring at the flames in utter confusion.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Dean said. He leveled his wand at his temple and muttered a spell under his breath. Instantly the effects of the alcohol were removed from his system and he was completely sober. "Alright, you guys get out of sight and stay there I'm going to go see what is happening."

"Don't get hurt mate," Lynch said, not willing to argue. His girlfriend led him away and the other Irish Quidditch Team members quickly followed suit.

Dean sprinted off in the direction of the flames and, before he had even made it halfway there, he was intercepted by a jet of green light that barely missed his chest. He skidded to a stop, turning to face the direction which the spell had come from. It was not hard to identify his attacker or, in this case, attackers. A line of people in black cloaks and off-white masks were approaching him with their wands extended. Behind them, Dean saw several dark shapes on the ground he knew to be bodies.

"Who the hell are you guys?" he demanded, switching his wand from target to target as they continued to move forward.

"The Dark Lord has given us a sign," one of them intoned, the voice sounding familiar. "This is the long overdue reckoning that your kind have had coming. Consider this as an act of war, if you will, it matters little. When the Dark Lord returns to power all the unworthy will die."

"Yeah, well, I've stopped the world from ending before," Dean raised his chin in defiance. "Different dimension, same outcome though."

"Your arrogance is what has led to your doom, know this," one of them said. The others began to fan out so that a loose semicircle of the black robed figures was now encircling Dean.

"Don't think so," Dean said. He aimed his wand at the figure at the farthest right and barked, " _Confringo!_ "

The ground beneath the Death Eater exploded in a mighty dirt geyser and sent the three figures on the end flying backwards. The others, to their credit, did not waste a single breath. They sent various curses, hexes, and spells that had Dean dropping to the ground with a muffled thud. But his troubles did not end there as they did not stop their advantage. They continued to send light after light at him, even as Dean ducked and weaved through them with adrenaline pounding through his veins. He hadn't really been in a duel prior to this, not beyond a practice bout with Charlie Weasley. But he had studied offensive and defensive magic at every given chance, and Dean Winchester was never without his tricks.

He managed to get back to a line of abandoned tents and ducked behind them, narrowly avoiding a Killing Curse. The Death Eaters, intent as they were on their prey, paused when they lost sight of him. "He's a Hogwarts Teacher," one of them growled, "Cost me some work he did. We still have time before the Ministry sends the Aurors. Let's kill him and send Dumbledore a message."

"I would rather not be caught in a duel against the Aurors," the center Death Eater sneered. "But I do understand your desire for blood, Rookwood. For now, however, we must withdraw. Crouch, set the Mark."

"I do not need your permission," a younger voice snarled. He raised his wand to the sky and said, almost reverently, " _Mordsmore!"_

Dean watched the spell travel into the sky and turn itself into a large green skull with a snake wrapped around it. He knew what it was instantly, many of the books he had read spoke of it with fear. The Dark Mark. The sign over which the victims of Voldemort of his followers would lie. That meant that those bastards had killed someone. The thought brought Dean to a rage and he leapt out from behind the tent he had been hiding.

The Death Eaters began to Disapparate away just as he revealed himself. Dean sent a curse at the last, before he had a chance to disappear, but it was casually deflected with impetuous ease. "Ah, so the little mouse shows himself," the voice, belonging to the one called Crouch, mocked. "I was wondering if you had crawled back into your hole."

"Those people back there," Dean said, gesturing to the bodies that the Death Eaters had left behind. "Why did you kill them?"

Crouch laughed, a horrible and manic sound, and spread his arms wide. "Why not?" he retorted simply.

Dean's anger boiled over and, before he knew it, the two were dueling. But it was almost immediately apparent to Dean that he was outmatched by his opponent. Incredibly so.

 **Sorry for the short chapter, my dear readers, I was somewhat busy. I hope your New Year has been wonderful thus far. I will make up for it in the next chapter, I swear.**

 **Hallowed**


	36. Outmatched

To say that Dean was outmatched by the Death Eater that he dueled was not true, nor was it entirely wrong. Every spell, hex, and curse that he cast had been brushed aside or dodged with almost contemptuous ease. Meanwhile Dean was bleeding from multiple gashes across his chest, his breathing was labored due to a curse that he had been hit with, and his vision was growing blurry. But this was what Dean was used to, this was the sort of against-all-odds fight that he had been raised engaging in.

"Come now," the Death Eater gloated, spreading his arms to shoulder height. "Just give up, clearly you can see that you've lost can't you? You aren't any match for me."

"We're just getting started," Dean promised, glaring daggers at his opponent. "This isn't over by a long shot."

"Now, see, that is where you are wrong." The Death Eater mocked. "The Dark Lord will soon rise again and he will bring with him a new world order. Mudbloods and Muggles will be hunted down like the vermin that they are and blood purity will be restored."

"Are you gonna stand over there and run your mouth or are you gonna fight?" Dean demanded, raising his wand once more.

Crouch removed his mask to reveal a scowling young, handsome face. "Your bravado will be the death of you," he promised. "But not today. No, I think I will quite like to see what becomes of you when your precious students start dying by the dozens and you are unable to help them.

"Don't you dare touch them!" Dean snarled, sending a curse at Crouch which was flicked away easily. "I swear, you touch a single hair on any of those kids' heads I will personally hunt you down and gut you alive."

"Empty words," Crouch sneered. "Albus Dumbledore does not employ anyone capable of killing."

A loud shout in the distance broke Crouch's concentration for a split second and Dean capitalized on it. " _Impedimenta_!" he whispered. The spell, no less powerful for its quiet recitation, connected solidly with Crouch and sent him sprawling into the dirt. He rushed towards Crouch with the intention of beating him down, magic was clearly not doing the job, the old-fashioned way. He was ten meters away when his body erupted into an incredible pain.

"Is this your first time experiencing the _Cruciatus_ curse?" Crouch breathed, his mocking grin gone from his face. "Wonderful isn't it? It doesn't matter how high your pain tolerance is, this sort of pain isn't bearable by anyone."

Dean had to agree. It felt as though every cell in his body was burning, as though his blood was molten steel. When the pain vanished he discovered that he had fallen to the ground. His wand was, somehow, still in his hand but said hand was beneath the heel of Crouch's boot. Another shout, closer this time, and Crouch vanished, the last image Dean had of him was a manic grin spreading across his face.

Dean tried to get to his feet, he really did, but blood loss and the lack of adrenaline in his system made this an impossible task. He managed to get to a sitting position, but that was the limit of his movement. His vision flickered in and out as voices grew closer to him. He blacked out, briefly, and woke up lying on the ground once more. He saw a dark shape hunched over him and his instincts took over, his hand lashing out and wrapping around the throat of the figure. Other hands were immediately there, attempting to pry Dean's fingers away. "Winchester, it's alright, it's alright!" A familiar voice assured him.

It took him a moment to identify the owner of said voice but, after a moment, the dim memory came back. "Remus?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, now let go of Mr. Diggory," Lupin commanded.

Dean released his grip and the smaller man fell back, coughing and heaving in air. "What happened?"

"The World Cup was attacked by Death Eaters," one of the figures around them said somberly. "The Muggles who owned this field were all killed, along with a few of the wizards that came here. Five that we know of so far, we thought for sure that you were six."

"I'm not that easy to kill," Dean said, coughing. "Come on, let's see if we can help the others."

"You aren't going anywhere," Remus said firmly, pressing a hand to push Dean back to a lying position. "We performed some basic healing magic on you, but those gashes aren't closing. You need to get to St. Mungo's."

"I'm fine," Dean insisted.

"We'll take care of him," Lupin promised, gesturing to another person who stood by them. "You lot can go look for any more injured persons."

"You sure, Lupin?" Diggory asked, glancing warily to the person Remus had volunteered to stay with Dean.

"Go, Diggory." Lupin said coldly, offering a hand to Dean.

The Winchester accepted the assistance and, with a great deal of Lupin's help, was soon standing. He had one arm around Lupin's shoulders and, though he would not admit it, that was the sole reason he was able to walk. Quickly, however, his other arm went over another set of shoulders as the larger group of wizards set off to look for survivors or the dead.

"Thanks for this," he told Remus and the other. He turned to the unknown person and said, "My name is Dean, Dean Winchester."

"I know who you are, Professor." The man said, barking out a laugh. He was rather gaunt and very pale, but his eyes held a deviously playful light that Dean immediately found himself liking. His hair was long, nearly shoulder-length, and he was very skinny. "Star, Dak, and Morgan speak very highly of you."

"How do you know those three?" Dean asked, panting already from the short distance they had gone.

"I spent a lot of time with them when I lived in the Forbidden Forest. My name is Sirius Black." He waited for a few moments, as though expecting Dean to say or do something in particular.

"Nice to meet you," Dean said, unconcerned with this revelation. "Yeah, I heard you had your name cleared. How's the outside world been treating you?"

"Like shit." Sirius said cheerfully. "Can't walk into a store without people looking at me like they are afraid of me. Can't find work because of that too."

"That's rough man," Dean said sympathetically. "If you want I could get you a job at the Three Broomsticks? Rosmerta and I are, ah, we get along very well."

"Remus, I take back what I said," Sirius said, looking over at his friend.

"I told you, Sirius, the Winchesters are not your run of the mill wizards." Remus said, smiling. "After all, how many people do you know who would allow themselves to be helped by a werewolf and a former Azkaban prisoner?"

"Not many," Sirius admitted. "Dean, if you could convince Rosmerta to hire me I would be very appreciative. It would be nice to see Harry play Quidditch without being in my Animagus form."

"Sure thing," Dean nodded. His thoughts turned grim then. "So who was killed?"

"Two wizards from Egypt were trapped in their tent when it was set on fire and couldn't escape. Another looks to have been tortured to death. Two more dueled the Death Eaters but you just can't win against those sort of odds. Lynch, the Irish Seeker, was already transported to St. Mungo's but they aren't sure if he is going to survive."

"Lynch?" Dean demanded, enraged all over again. "What happened to him?"

Apparently a few students had been targeted by the Death Eaters and he tried to intervene and help them. The kids escaped, but they took out their frustrations on Lynch. Even if he survives his Quidditch playing days are over."

"Why the hell did they attack anyways?" Dean growled.

"Probably decided to remind the world that they were still a threat," Sirius said grimly. "Everyone knows that some Death Eaters got off scot-free and others went into hiding."

"Yeah, I dueled one tonight. One of the others called him Crouch." Dean said, his breathing now very labored as they clamored up a hill.

"Crouch?" Remus asked sharply. "Are you sure, Dean?"

"Yeah, does the name ring a bell?" Dean asked, frowning. "He took off his mask when we dueled. Younger guy, brown hair, kind of a creepy smile?"

"That's him," Lupin said grimly. He glanced to Sirius and shook his head. "I suppose you weren't the first person to escape Azkaban then."

"Dumbledore will want to know about this," Black said, chewing his lip as he thought. "But we shouldn't go around telling everyone. The last thing we need right now is for people to lose faith in Azkaban. I can promise you, first hand, that it isn't an easy place to escape from."

"Take your word for it," Dean said as they finally made it to the top of the hill. "Why did we just climb this big ass hill?"

"Portkeys," Lupin said, pointing to an old boot in front of them. "The ministry set them up all over the place so that people can get home. This one will take us to St. Mungo's lobby."

"I told you, I'm fine." Dean insisted, fighting off a cough. "Give me a bed and a few hours' sleep and I will be just fine."

"Nothing like a good nights' sleep to cure a punctured lung," Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're going to St. Mungo's, Jam…" Sirius's voice trailed off and a look of sadness took over his features.

Dean glanced to Lupin and saw the same expression there, halting the question he had been about to ask. Dean knew about James Potter and the Marauders, and how much James, Remus, and Sirius had cared for one another. Sam had, very briefly, explained it to him, but Dean now saw that the short summary was not at all enough. He recognized the look on their face. It wasn't one of anger, or shame. This was the look of two people who were remembering someone they loved very dearly after being reminded of their personality. Simply put, Dean had just acted enough like James Potter that Sirius had, if only for the briefest of moments, forgotten that his friend was long dead.

But for that moment Dean saw a much younger man beneath the obvious years of torture and abuse he had endured in Azkaban. It was then that Dean made the unconscious decision to become friends with Sirius Black.

 **My readers, thank you so much. Thanks to you this story has surpassed five hundred followers! As my thanks, I will make the next chapter(or the one following the next) a special one shot episode. Is there anything you would like to see? Dean and Rosmerta's first date? Neville visiting Triss over the summer? Any other ideas you would like to see? Feel free to inbox me the ideas, or leave them in the reviews. I will, most likely, do one extremely lengthy chapter with several one shots included in it, so please give me your ideas!**

 **Cheers, Hallowed**


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